


Henry and the Nope Machine

by shadow_oblivion



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Butcher Gang shenanigans, Everyone Has Issues, Existential Crisis, Gen, Mix of ic and ooc, Ok I guess there’s a smidge of angst, Rating May Change, Sarcasm, Swearing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tired Henry Stein, bendy is trying to help henry after so many loops, don’t take this seriously, everyone is screaming at one point or another, he is done and ready to nope out, henry is the one giving chase now, henry will have that tommy gun, ink demon bendy is out for blood, ink demon has issues, maybe some satire, not giving a damn, one too many loops, sammy is incensed over the disrespect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 56,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23108107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_oblivion/pseuds/shadow_oblivion
Summary: Henry Stein has finally snapped after one too many loops. No one in the studio is safe, apart from those he counts as friends.[*I currently need to map out more of the story. I only have about 1 draft chapter-meant to state that this fic was going on hiatus, both for motivation and outlining the new direction the fic went in]
Comments: 282
Kudos: 341





	1. Start Over Again

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a just for fun fic to try to write something more than the angst most of my other stories currently have. 
> 
> Because sometimes, you just want the main character of a game to stop following the rules and turn the tables on their enemies (and in this case, do that with some help from your own creation).
> 
> Edit: as is usual with me, this turned into an actual story instead of just something derpy.

Walls that were covered with familiar posters and thick trailing ink greeted Henry’s vision. The man gave a few blinks of his eyes as his shoulders sagged in realization. This meant that he had yet again failed to prevent himself from going through the door to the studio.

How lovely.

How perfectly wonderful.

How Henry _loved_ romping through the studio with all the _crazed_ beings, _death_ traps and the _never_ ending ink that always left behind a stain on him, inside and out.

Such _fun_. 

Who _wouldn’t_ want to be trapped in an animation studio with real live toons, many of whom had such _striking_ personalities? Gotta love the possessed amusement rides deep beneath the studio.

...Damnit.

Henry blew out an audible sigh of pent-up frustration. He was trapped again, and this meant that he would be forced to go through yet another loop. Henry decided then and there that he refused to play along anymore, no matter how futile that resistance would be in the end.

Henry Stein was finally finished with it all. He was done with the endless repeating of the same actions. 

Done with Alice Angel, the Butcher Gang, Sammy, and the Projectionist.

Absolutely, completely _done_ with the Ink Demon.

Bendy's twisted form brought to life could come out of the wall right now and eat Henry for all he cared. Or perhaps Sammy could stop with his obsessive worshiping and take Henry out of his misery. Hell, that twisted Alice Angel could drag herself from the relative safety of her domain and end things for him.

 _Anything_ could happen to Henry at this point and he wouldn’t care, so long as he didn’t have to turn on that damn machine.

Henry would not willingly start the cycle all over again, and took steps to prevent it, at least for a time. Henry eased his already exhausted body to the floor, and rested his back against the door. The same door that would never open for him but to taunt Henry before he would plummet, just out of reach of the door’s handle.

Common sense told Henry that if he didn’t turn the ink machine on, he wouldn’t have to deal with the madness it brought.

Hours, or perhaps days, maybe even weeks, passed by.

Henry should have given in and started the machine, since starving to death didn't seem to be an option in this hellish place. But he held out, despite the boredom this place brought him. Not even doodles on the floor helped. Henry had even taken to lying flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

How droll, seeing images of his creations within the ink that was there. As if Henry needed more to drive him insane in this place.

The ink dropped down from above now and again, even without the machine turned on.

It was kind of peaceful, in a way.

The silence instead of the madness.

Without warning, there was the jarring sound of the ink beginning to be pumped throughout the pipes in the studio.

Henry jolted upright, even as he groaned over the way his body protested the sudden movement.

What the hell was going on?

Was it a dream?

Was he imagining things?

Henry heard what could have been the pattering of feet nearby, but he was much more concerned that someone had dared to start that wretched contraption. Henry hurried to where the machine was kept, and slid to a halt, seeing the boarded up room.

No.

Someone else really _had_ started up the Ink Machine.

Henry felt dread creeping in on him, before a sense of hopeless despair washed over him. That feeling of despair was soon overtaken by the kind of anger that only happened when one’s own choices were wrenched out of their control. As before, Henry knew that he was done playing the games of this studio, and a kind of recklessness sunk in now that the Ink Machine had somehow kicked on.

Done.

Henry was _done_ with this continued abuse of his mind and body. With a firm set of his jaw, Henry slowly stepped forward, prepared for what happened next.

The moment the Ink Demon took a swipe at him was when everything would change.

Henry timed it perfectly, and as the Ink Demon lunged and reached out for him, Henry stepped out of range. Not a moment later, Henry stepped in closer than he ever dared before to the creature.

The Ink Demon twitched before going completely still, a low growl emitting from it. For a brief instance, it seemed perplexed, as if not knowing what to do about being touched by someone it normally killed.

Henry methodically clenched his free hand into a fist.

No more thinking.

Only action.

Henry gripped the Ink Demon’s forearm tight with his left, and swung his right hand hard at its face. Henry’s fist smashed straight into the inky being’s eternal fucking smile, and damn if that didn’t feel good to Henry after running away from the Ink Demon all of the time.


	2. Chapter 2

In hindsight, punching the teeth of an inhuman creature probably wasn’t the smartest move. Especially when said teeth opened the moment the punch landed to try to bite down on Henry’s hand.

The teeth, while still flat, could no doubt chomp through anything with how large they were.

“Shit.” Henry hissed in pain. He hadn’t moved his hand away fast enough, and those deceptively sharp and sizable chompers cut skin.Henry tucked his bleeding hand against his sweater as he stumbled back. Henry didn’t dare take his eyes off the Ink Demon that was snarling at him. Henry did attempt to stop the blood flow, even as he foolishly grit out,“That all you got? I’ve had paper cuts worse than this.”

A lie, really, but who was keeping track?

”You think you’re all that and a plate of cookies?” Henry continued on, wincing as he squeezed his sweater around his still bleeding hand. “If everyone ganged up on your skeletal ass, we wouldn’t be doing this song and dance every time.”

The Ink Demon cocked its head to the side as a black tongue flicked out to remove the blood from its teeth.

“What, do I taste good?” Henry dared to prod, as he backed away. “Well, that’s all you’re gonna get from me, I’m afraid.”

The Ink Demon’s maw parted to hiss at Henry before the inky, skeletal demon began to actually squeeze through the boards blocking the room. The Ink Demon swiped its gloved hand toward Henry again, this time with what appeared to be a frustrated growl as it gnashed its teeth together as though longing to bite.

“Bad demon. No biting.” Henry scolded, stupidly going closer to the demon as his uninjured palm went across the inky creature’s cheek with a sharp motion. He didn’t slap that hard but the demon’s head went to the side with the motion. 

  
“Uh...” Not only had he just punched the Ink Demon in the face, Henry just essentially bitch slapped it too. 

The Ink Demon’s head snapped back to forward-facing and screamed in apparent fury over the slap.

“Aaand that’s my cue to run.” Henry said, more to himself, as he about-faced and ran his ass as fast as he could toward the exit.

From the sound of breaking boards and another furious shriek, the Ink Demon was giving chase instead of slinking off.

As Henry ran, the ink pipes began to burst and flood the floor.Doors slammed down, blocking Henry’s path to only one possible direction.

The exit of the studio.

Henry ran toward that exit even thoughhe knew that he wouldn’t get out. Henry turned around sharply to face the Ink Demon as it hurtled around the corner. 

The demon slowed, growling softly as it stalked closer to Henry with its limp. The Ink Demon seemed to know that the human had nowhere to run to. 

“I told you that you weren’t getting another taste of my blood. Not even if Sammy decides to do a blood sacrifice this time around!” Henry yelled at the approaching Ink Demon. “I’ll throw myself into the the ink as I bleed out, and you’ll have to do with a snack of prophet.” 

The Ink Demon rushed forward.

Henry hastily stepped backward, temporarily forgetting what happened when he got too close to the exit. There came the unnerving sound of the floorboards creaking, heralding the coming disaster. Henry heard a loud snap directly beneath him, felt the floor give, and then he was falling, falling until he hit a pool of ink beneath him.

It was staring again.

The cycle was beginning anew, and this time, he hadn’t even started it.

Henry flailed to the surface of the inky pool, determined not to drown in the ink. He heard the demon screeching at him from overhead, a little too close, and looked up.

The Ink Demon had followed Henry down, but was holding itself up above the pool of ink. Its teeth were rattling, and as soon as it noted Henry looking, the teeth parted. The Ink Demon let out a snarl.

“What? Not going to come get me?” Henry kept himself afloat, wary to drain it while the Ink Demon was still so near. “Don’t want to have a little swim? Funny, you did before when you jumped out of the ink the first time I met you.” Feeling bold once more, Henry paddled over to the tape recorder on the shelf, grabbed it, and then paddled over to be directly beneath the Ink Demon.

The demon opened its maw to screech, only to grunt as the tape recorder bounced off its forehead, or thereabouts, making a tacky sound.

“C’mon! Get down here!” Henry caught the broken tape recorder and threw it again, only for the Ink Demon to grab it in its gloved hand to crush it. “Spoilsport.”

The demon let the pieces drop onto Henry’s head, as if indicating what would happen the next time it got close enough to the human. After that display, the Ink Demon appeared to grow bored, and with a final loud incensed snarl, it climbed back up and out of sight.

Henry waited a few breaths, before he chanced swimming over to the valve to drain the ink. The human determined that he was yet again being forced to go through the madness as he had countless times before.

Was it too much to ask for a break?

A rain check?

A vacation in a place more colorful?

The fact that Henry hadn’t even decided to turn on the Ink Machine himself felt like a betrayal.

But who did it?

Who had started up the loop again?

Well, as per usual, all Henry could do was press on. He could always take a nap, and see what happened. Maybe Henry would wake up and find himself surrounded by the Lost Ones playing a slow dirge for him, as Sammy prepared to sacrifice him for the Ink Demon.

A terrible fate, that.

A happy tune from one of the earlier Bendy cartoons made would be more fitting. What better way to show the how dark and twisted this studio had become compared to what it had once been?

Henry was sure that Sammy would oblige, if only because it would stroke his ego and his need to praise the Ink Demon before Henry’s upcoming demise by playing an old song for his savior. Hell, maybe Henry could even convince the music director to find a Boris to perform a silent eulogy over his lifeless body before it was claimed by the ink yet again.

Morbid thoughts, go away.

Henry gave a shake of his head as he blew out yet another dismal sigh, slowly wading through more ink to reach a second valve. Once drained, he shoved his way into a room. 

Lucking out on a first aid kit, Henry cleaned the bite wound as best he could, and bandaged it. He would need to be in a safer area before he could look closer to see if it needed stitches.

Henry’s gaze fell onto the axe on the wall, where it always was.  Tucking the aid kit into a bag he found and slinging it over a shoulder, Henry moved closer. The situation snapped into stark clarity, and Henry could stand it no longer.

That was  _it_.

Henry was done playing this game, as he had decided countless times before during this current loop. If he couldn’t just not do a loop, then he would go down fighting this time, to hell with hiding and being careful.

Punching the Ink Demon in the face had been so satisfying.

So refreshing.

Wonderful, really, to lash out at one of his tormentors.  One of the few highlights of this fucking nightmare of never-ending ink and misery.

The axe was taken down from the wall with a feeling close to reverence.   


Was this how Sammy felt about worshipping the Ink Demon? Because Henry was ready to worship the violence this axe and other weapons would bring.

It was a powerful feeling.

Henry hefted it in his hands, careful with his wounded hand, a crazed glint in his eyes. He was done playing by this studio’s twisted rules. As the sharp end of the axe was used to hack through the wood planks blocking the door, Henry resolved to be reckless.

He was done, and ready to bash some inky skulls in. 

No more hiding in the shadows.

No retreating to the little miracle stations. 

Henry was out for inky blood after being forced into the same motions yet again. And as to the one who started the machine? To the cast of characters who would show themselves to Henry in this twisted place?

They had no idea that Henry was done with their games.

Henry collapsed onto the ground within the pseudo-pentagram with Bendy’s head in the center, as he always did. Right before Henry passed out, the older man smiled for the first time in a long while. Wouldn't some of the more aggressive toons in this studio be oh so surprised to find out that Henry was past the point of caring and was no longer intimidated by any of them?

An axe to the face would show them if they had any lingering doubts.

Within the shadows, a figure cautiously came forward to study Henry's unconscious form curiously. Then, the figure approached a chair and hopped up onto it to wait for the man to regain consciousness.

A soft hum filled the air; a tune from decades ago, before everything became silent once more.

Henry slept on, oblivious to his visitor as he dreamt about hacking the Ink Demon to tiny pieces in front of a distraught Sammy Lawrence.


	3. Same Old Song and Dance

Henry woke up with a pounding headache.

Of course he did.

That much was always the same. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t a terrible ache each time it came to pass.

“Ohh, my head.” Henry bit off the next usual phrase, and instead cussed up a storm.

What was it about this particular pentagram that affected him so much?

Henry had never bothered much with figuring out how these odd pentagram-like things worked. It wasn’t like Henry could ask Sammy about it, seeing as the music director was more likely to give him a live, hands-on demonstration.

Death by ritual was not a death Henry was keen on.

Henry had thus far avoided such a fate, but there was always a first time for everything. Just like not always saying the same words every loop.

Well...kind of.

Henry let out a groan and stared up at the ceiling. It looked just the same as 95% of the rest of the studio. Since he was all on his own, Henry decided it couldn’t hurt to speak aloud. Maybe he could delay the inevitable for a little while longer.

“Joey should have gotten some interior decoration for this place. It was just depressing working here with everything looking the same. ” Henry let out a soft snort almost immediately after. “Not that he’d waste money like that. He’d certainly waste it on a fancy lunch to butter someone up, though. Or conveniently shove the payment off on another person.” Henry scowled. “Maybe Joey just liked that he had enough power to get people to do what he wanted. And then there’s me, lying on the floor of an abandoned studio, talking to the ceiling.”

A giggle rang out in the silence following this announcement.

Henry froze in place, not daring to move.

Someone...someone was _there_ with him?

But...Henry should have been alone, until he reached the music department.

This was abnormal.

What should he do? 

The intruder made the decision easier by suddenly appearing within Henry’s range of vision.

Henry sucked in a sharp breath at the curious pie-cut eyes looking down at him.

How was this...

How was this possible?

It was Bendy.

A great big toothy grin, exactly like the cut-outs littering the studio, appeared on the being’s face upon making eye contact.

It was little devil darling himself, as if Bendy has just hopped off one of the reels and into real life.

Henry must have hit his head hard.

A little gloved hand patted Henry’s forehead, a look of concern slipping onto the toon demon’s face as he lost his smile.

”Just a headache.” Henry felt like he needed to reassure the hallucination. “I’ll...I’ll be all right. Just need to let it pass.”

Bendy’s grin appeared again before he ducked back out of eyesight.

Henry cautiously sat up, and for a short time, watched the way Bendy danced a little jig around the small room.

Bendy flashed a happy smile at Henry now and again, but didn’t stop dancing.

Henry found that he was unable to relax, even if the display from Bendy was apparently meant to cheer him up or put him at ease.

This had to be a cruel trick.

A hallucination.

Or perhaps Henry really had hit his head harder this time around when he had collapsed. That would explain why he was experiencing the sight of one of his own creations twirling around.

This didn’t make any sense.

Henry tensed further when Bendy happily hopped in front of him to take took his hands in his own gloved ones.

Bendy beamed as he bounced on the balls of his shoes, as if unable to hold still.

Henry checked how far away his axe was before he immediately felt terrible and inwardly scolded himself.

This Bendy wasn’t doing any harm and only showed joy at Henry’s presence. It was kind of like when Henry would meet Boris later on.

A concerned sound slipped out of the small toon, and the big toothy grin vanished to a concerned line. Bendy had noticed the bandages around Henry’s right hand and looked up at him anxiously.

”I punched the Ink Demon in the teeth.” Henry told Bendy. “It was an amazing feeling, apart from the whole being clipped by those teeth.”

Bendy let go of Henry’s hands to clap gloved ones over his mouth in a show of shock, pie-cut eyes wide.

Well, at least this meant the toon knew about the Ink Demon.

Henry was too tired to explain.

”To be fair, it usually tries to kill me.” Henry grunted as the small toon suddenly launched himself onto Henry to hug him around his neck. “I don’t think it was trying to kill me until I slapped it.”   
  
Bendy drew back, releasing Henry from the quick hug to give Henry a dropped jaw.

Funny.   
  
Henry never thought he’d see a look of disbelief like that on Bendy. It wouldn’t have occurred to Henry to draw something like that, even when when he used to draw his creation in a regular basis. He’d have to remember to draw the look later on, to show the toon. With what seemed to be the intended personality, Bendy ought to get a kick out of seeing such an expression.

Bendy frowned at the human’s lack of response to his distress over how stupid it was to attack something that could kill you. 

When Henry checked back in from his thoughts to see what Bendy was doing, Henry saw the little devil busy trying to undo the bandages.

“Here, let me get that...” Henry finished untying the worryingly bloodied bandages. “I need to treat it a little more than I...” Henry drifted off as he looked at his exposed right hand. Henry swayed from where he was seated on the floor. Those teeth had cut into his palm and back of his hand much deeper than Henry initially thought. There was even some ink in the scrapes of the teeth that were still sluggishly bleeding.

”That...can’t be a good sign.” Henry woozily looked to Bendy. “Don’t let me transform into some ink monster. If I do, or start to speak in tongues and begin to float in the air, axe me in the head and put me out of my misery.”

Could the ink cause hysteria? 

Was the transformation already beginning?  
  
Wait...why was Henry seeing three panicked Bendys in front of him?

“If my wound is contaminated, chop the hand off before the transformation can begin.” Henry closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning. He wasn’t making any sense but attempted to communicate as best he could. “Hide the hand. Don’t let the Ink Demon have it. Told it...” Henry groaned in discomfort over the exposed injury being moved gently by Bendy. “Told the Ink Demon...couldn’t have...more’ve m’ blood.”

Unless the Ink Demon would be able get the blood from the pentagram from wherever it was lurking in the studio.

”Chisel words... ‘died of infection...’fter punch’in Ink Demon...in face’...put m’ coffin.” Henry didn’t recall passing out on the pentagram again after his slurred words. Unless he hadn’t and was in some fevered stupor. Henry could have sworn that Bendy was seated on the floor alongside him, clinging to his uninjured arm as the little devil inspected the wound.

Then, Henry was back into dreams of tearing through the monsters of the studio with great glee, leaving behind piles of inky bodies.

Bendy lingered alongside his unconscious creator, pouting with worry as he tried to figure out what to do about the infected wound.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry woke up for a second time since starting this new loop to find himself still in the same place as before.

So he hadn’t been eaten.

A shame, really.

Henry would have been an easy meal, lying in an unconscious heap. If, of course, being eaten was what the Ink Demon would do with his body before Henry started the loop all over again.

No sign of Sammy, either.

On the plus side, Henry was feeling much better than before. That massive headache from earlier was now gone. A minor detail in the grand scheme of things, but a welcome detail all the same. Henry eased himself into an upright position, and noticed straight away that his right hand had been bandaged again.

No blood, or at least very little, appeared on the bandages.

A small mercy, that.

Henry really had half expected to wake up to the Ink Demon in the process of eating him piece by piece. Or at least chomping the wounded hand off before sitting back to watch Henry bleed out.

Such morbid thoughts.

Henry really was becoming more cynical and alot more pessimistic with each loop. Now all he needed was to find out that the Bendy from before was actually real and-

Toon Bendy made his cheerful, non-hallucination self known by standing in front of Henry with a wide grin.

“So you  _are_ real.” Henry stated in monotone.  


There it was. 

Proof that he hadn’t been imagining seeing the little devil before. 

Henry’s mind struggled to comprehend what was going on. He had never come across another Bendy in this studio apart from the Ink Demon, and it wasn’t exactly what Henry had in mind when he had created the little devil darling.

Bendy looked at Henry curiously.

“How are you here?” Henry wondered aloud. ”I’ve never seen you in...person, apart from the cut-outs, posters and some animation frames on old desks.”

Bendy tilted his head to the side, his smile morphing into a puzzled frown. Bendy hummed, or appeared to, as he tapped a finger against his cheek, like he was in thought. Then, Bendy perked up and shuffled closer to Henry. The little devil rested one hand on Henry’s knee as he leaned in to poke Henry in the chest over his heart.

“I’m pretty sure my heart being ripped out in past loops didn’t bring you to life.” Henry pointed out. “If it was, and I can’t remember right now, the Ink Demon likely squished it around in its hand as I twitched and died on the floor nearby.”

Bendy looked horrified over the idea before renewing his efforts to prod Henry firmly in the chest. Bendy then let let go of the human’s knee to tap himself in the chest over his bow tie. He repeated this gesture several times, giving Henry an almost urgent expression.

“Wait...” Henry reached out to stop Bendy from continuing to poke him. Now that Henry was paying better attention to the little devil, Henry realized that Bendy was trying to imply something much less depressing than the Ink Deon tearing out his heart.

A spark of hope was rekindled.

“Was it...was it because I believed so much, in that one instance? After all this time? I just needed to...to believe?” Henry wondered. “Did believing so much that I wanted you to be here...the real Bendy, and not that monster in the past loop.” Henry gently squeezed the toon’s hand. “Did that actually change this loop?”

Bendy grinned wider.

“Guess imagination is powerful after all.” Henry said wryly. “After going through this endless cycle so many times, I must have lost that belief. Memories of the good times. Making and creating cartoons, before everything went to hell.” 

Bendy nodded solemnly before he tugged his hand free of Henry’s to clamber onto the human’s lap. Then, Bendy reached up with his goofy noodle limbs in hopes of a hug.

From this angle, Henry could see Bendy’s head defying logic and floating just over his shoulders. 

“You...this doesn’t bother you?” Henry vaguely gestured to the thin empty space.  


Bendy proceeded to run a hand beneath his head and shoulders, exaggerating the motion. Bendy looked as if he was pretending to cut his head off with that hand, while offering Henry a mischievous look with both eyes and smile.

Toon logic, Henry supposed. If that was how Bendy was designed, then of course the way his body was made wouldn’t bother him. Henry wasn’t certain how well the physics would would translate to real life, but Bendy was already more toon-like from the cartoon than anything else in those studio, apart from Boris. An insistent tap on Henry’s shoulders directed Henry’s attention back to Bendy.

The little devil darling was still waiting for a hug with arms outstretched.

Henry leaned over the slightest bit to hug the toon, because it wasn’t every day he could say he hugged his own cartoon creation.

Bendy happily returned the embrace.

“I guess I need to press on.” Henry told the toon. “I don’t think it’s safe here, at least for any longer than a day.” Henry released Bendy from the hug and set him down in front of him. “Want to come along with me? There are a lot of monsters here in the studio now. Some bad, and some good.”

In answer, Bendy went over to the axe to try to pick it up. Bendy made a show of comically struggling to lift the weapon, as if he were in a cartoon.

Henry wasn’t fast enough to prevent Bendy from attempting to swing the axe into a board blocking the door, and could only watch the outcome in mute horror.

The little devil swung the axe but slipped and fell over. The axe thankfully didn’t cause injury but it still knocked Bendy over the head with the flat of the blade.

“Nice try.” Henry got to his feet to retrieve the axe. While  still leaning over, Henry reached out with his uninjured hand to pat Bendy reassuringly between his horns. “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself, so how about you leave the axe handling to me?”

Bendy picked himself up off the floor before he offered an embarrassed look, and then a nod of agreement at Henry’s words.

Henry faintly smiled at the toon before it vanished into a thin line as he turned to the door and swung the axe to hack away at the boards.

It was time to go to the music department for the upteenth time.

Henry wasn’t looking forward to coming across Sammy again, but at least Henry wouldn’t be alone this time. Henry had company now in the form of the happy being who skipped alongside him as they descended the stairs.

This loop would be different.

For one thing. Henry was ready to swing his axe into bodies now. He still wanted to go through as many corrupted beings in this studio before they took him down. And Henry knew exactly what he was going to go about confronting Sammy this time.

A board that fell from above caused Bendy to shoot up in an exaggerated show of fear. Bendy leaped up and onto Henry’s back as the toon buried his face against the human’s neck, shivering from the scare.

“It’s all right.” Henry reached up with his left hand to give Bendy’s own back a reassuring pat. Interestingly, his hand didn’t come away with ink. “It’s just an inanimate object. It won’t hurt you.”

Bendy peeked down at the board before he reluctantly slid off of Henry’s shoulder to the floor. Bendy reached up to cling to the hem of Henry’s sweater before they continued forward.

The anticipation was building.  


Henry couldn’t wait to enact his plan to put a stop to Sammy trying to sacrifice him later. Henry walked past Sammy’s raving in the form of a recording. There would be no ‘can I get an amen’ echo this time. Henry briefly came to a halt when he saw Bendy’s head turn to look at the coffins.

A sad look passed across the toon’s face before he and Henry continued on. Soon enough, the toon and human stood before the short hall of ink.

This was it.

An eager smile appeared on Henry’s face.

This was where another change would be made. 

“Stay back, okay? I’m going to throw the axe.” Henry made sure Bendy understood before Henry turned to face the hall again. Henry squeezed the axe handle before he surged forward, sloshing through the ink. Henry knew the ink would slow him down, but didn’t let that concern him. Henry hefted the axe, drew it back, took aim, and then threw it as hard as he could while still running. 

The axe went spinning end over end.

There would be no audible ‘hello’ to Sammy this time. No asking him for help that would never come. 

Henry’s greeting to Sammy this time was an axe burying itself into the wall a hairbreadth away from the music director.

The Bendy cut-out that Sammy always carried under his right arm dropped to the floor with a clatter as the masked inky man stumbled backward with a cry of shock. In that same moment, Bendy climbed up some nearby shelves to stay out of any potential danger.

And Henry?

Henry charged forward like a man possessed, and gave Sammy no time to react. Henry threw his whole body in a hard tackle straight into the music director. Henry plowed into Sammy heavily, the momentum of the tackle taking both men to the floor. Henry righted himself first and drew back his left hand into fist. 

Sammy appeared briefly stunned from the initial tackle.

The time to strike was now.

It seemed appropriate for Henry to clock Sammy as Henry had to the Ink Demon earlier. Give Sammy the old one-two, for all the times Sammy had struck Henry over the back of the head with that damn metal dust pan.

“Where’s your god now?!” Henry laughed breathlessly as he swung his fist down hard at the Bendy mask Sammy wore.


	5. Chapter 5

Most unfortunately, Henry forgot the most basic of rules in this studio.  


Beware the Ink Demon, of course, was the number one rule, followed closely by not antagonizing the projectionist. But the other very important rule?

Avoid the fucking crazed music director that worshipped the Ink Demon.

There was a reason most toons avoided the music department.

In Henry’s eagerness to beat the shit out of Sammy, Henry had completely forgotten about the fact that Sammy wasn’t as easy to beat as the others who dwelled in the studio.  
  
Sammy was a very tenacious bastard, and quite passionate about spouting his praises to his inky ‘lord.’  


Because of the above, Henry was unable to hear the satisfying sound of the mask being broken beneath his fist.   


Sammy had recovered from the initial surprise attack and was quick to retaliate.

Henry’s swing for the mask was stopped by one of Sammy’s three-fingers hands catching his arm. Henry jerked his right arm out of range as the inky man made a swipe for Henry’s right arm.

Damn.

Henry _may_ have forgotten just how strong Sammy was, especially considering how easily the inky man could just heft Henry around like he weighed nothing. 

“Where is your god, Sammy?” Henry repeated, covering up his discomfort while testing the other’s grip. 

Sammy’s grasp was firm and his hand even tightened around Henry’s arm at those words. 

Even though Henry had the advantage of leverage, he doubted that it would be easy to get free.   


Insults about the the Ink Demon would have to suffice for a distraction.

Henry could only hope that Sammy didn’t get his fingers around his neck. The music director seemed to get overly insulted by his ‘lord’ being ridiculed. 

“Is your inky savior off killing somewhere in the studio?” Henry prodded. “I’ll bet it ignores you only until you get it a meal. The it just goes back to ignoring you, because what use is a inky man praising you if you don’t provide it food?”

”You dare insult Him?” Sammy had let out an indignant gasp, his hand loosening a tad bit. “He appreciates the sacrifices I provide. Surely soon, He will set us free.”

“I highly doubt that it will save you from anything.” Henry pointed out. “You do realize that you’re worshipping an unfeeling creature that would sooner kill you than save you.” 

Henry’s jabs at the Ink Demon seemed to spur Sammy on into a feverish rage. Sammy began to splutter unintelligibly about ‘nonbelievers’ and ‘foolish sheep’ as he fought to get Henry’s weight off of him. Sammy had let go of his death grip on Henry’s arms to air in this process.

It wouldn’t be easy.

The mere fact that Henry had Sammy laid out on the floor on his in a vulnerable position made it all the more easy to give in to further violence.

The axe embedded in the wall was too far away, so Henry’s fists, as before, would have to do.

At least, that was the plan, until Sammy upended Henry with a desperate twist of his body. 

Henry grunted as he found himself on the floor. As soon as he heard Sammy shifting alongside him, Henry hastily rolled away from Sammy, and avoided what would have been a painful kick.

Both men got to their feet, squaring off and waiting for the other to make a move.

Bendy, still seated on a shelf,  cracked open a can of bacon soup. The toon warily watched the scene, looking as if he were wondering if he needed to step in.

Henry lunged first, swinging his left fist again. He missed the first several times as Sammy evaded him, still spouting off complete and utter nonsense, most of which Henry ignored.

“You dare attack His prophet? You will-gah!” Sammy’s head snapped back as Henry’s fist finally connected and smashed into his jaw.

Henry went to follow up with another strike, despite his already stinging. Henry did not except Sammy to catch his wrist again, nor to drag him in close to sock him in the abdomen.Henry doubled over with a harsh intake of air as Sammy let go.

The crotch shot was completely and utterly uncalled for.

Henry went down instantly, curling in on himself with a low groan. He sucked in a harsh breath, trying to work through the agony, as he knew that Sammy wasn’t going to let up.Henry barely managed to miss a second attempt to kick him, and in his haste to get back to his feet, he snapped part of the Bendy cut-out beneath unsteady feet.

Sammy let out an incensed nosie.

Henry made pseudo eye contact with Sammy, before very deliberately lifting his foot. Then, Henry proceeded to stamp down repeatedly onto the cut-out to crush it into pieces.

Sammy screamed obscenities at Henry as he ran at him, seemingly determined to throttle him as his hands went for Henry’s neck. 

A loud, inky smack resounded.

Sammy came to an abrupt halt, his inky fingers inches away from Henry’s throat. Sammy dropped limply to the ground in front of the baffled human.

Henry looked past the downed Sammy to see Bendy standing on a chair that hadn’t been there before, holding a broken board in his hands. 

Bendy dropped the broken board, looking alarmed at the violence he’d committed as he hopped off the chair. Bendy worriedly began to prod Sammy in the shoulder.

A semi-conscious groan rose from the music director.

Bendy looked relieved, and the frown that had been across his face reverted to the usual toothy grin as he looked up at Henry.

“Thanks for that.” Henry told the toon. “I forgot that he was so strong.”

Bendy seemed to be pleased with the thanks, and reached up to tug Henry’s sweater sleeve, before pointing to the closed door.

“Oh, right. Forgot about that.”Henry sighed, before pointing at the prone Sammy. “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to go press the buttons so we can keep moving forward.”

Bendy threw a sloppy salute, still smiling, before he proceeded to cheerfully sit on the chair, swinging his legs.

Henry found the buttons in quick succession, since he was used to the placement of all of the devices he would need to find in this studio.When Henry returned through the flooded ink hall, he was relieved to find Sammy still unconscious.

The need to bash the music director’s head in had lessened due to the aforementioned unconsciousness.

If Sammy had been awake...

Well, there would have been an inky mess on the ground, an empty pair of overalls, and a broken Bendy mask.

Henry retrieved his axe from the wall and looped it across the back of his belt with some rope he had found, for easy access. That accomplished, Henry approached Sammy, and grabbed him by the back of his overalls to start the slow process of dragging Sammy to the break room.

An idea had come to mind.

Bendy followed along with a skip in his step, listening to some song only he could hear. Bendy watched with great interest as Henry started up the power, and then let Sammy drop to the floor unceremoniously as Henry drew his axe.Bendy hid in the flooded stairwell area as Henry hefted the axe and began to massacre each and every searcher that showed up from the inky pools on the ground. 

Henry felt invigorated as he slammed the sharp end of the axe into the inky bodies that attacked him.

_Slash!_

Down went another searcher.

_Thud!_

A searcher was briefly bisected before it dissolved into the floor.

Henry’s arms ached by the time he finished clearing the room of the searchers with his much more violent and less hesitant attacks.

All was quiet.

Bendy cautiously came out of hiding and stuck close to Henry as the human resumed dragging Sammy to the break room, and over to the pool table.

Henry propped Sammy’s unconscious inky body against one of the legs of the pool table, and looked around for something to tie the music director up with. A tap on Henry’s shoulder caused a twitch but he knew who it would be. Henry half-turned to find Bendy grinning at him and holding up a pair of handcuffs.

Where the hell did those come from?

Henry took the handcuffs in hand and turned a frown on Sammy.

“I know you have a cult or something with some of those Lost Ones, worshipping that Ink Demon as you savior. But I think you should draw the line somewhere, before someone gets the wrong idea.” Henry told the unconscious Sammy. Henry slipped beneath the pool table, and tugged the music director’s arms behind the pool table leg he was propped up against. Henry torn off part of his already ruined sweater with a sharp edge of a piece of metal from nearby. That done, he looped the bits of sweater around Sammy’s wrists before securing the cuffs.

It wouldn’t be that far-fetched for Sammy to rip his inky hands free with how crazed he always seemed to be.

Despite the need to destroy something, Henry decided to act on the cautious side. That wouldn’t last though the whole studio, but he tried, for now, since Bendy was with him.  


Bendy clambered onto the pool table and held up the cue stick with a hopeful expression.

“You want to play a game?” Henry ventured.

Bendy nodded.

“Ok, get the balls set up.” Henry said, as he crouched down in front of Sammy. “I need to have a quick chat with the ‘prophet.’” Henry removed Sammy’s mask and patted one of the cheeks with a wet slap of the ink. “Hey! Wakey wakey music man.”

“What...?” Sammy groaned and woozily jerked his head away from Henry’s touch. Then, he immediately started to rise, only to fall back when his arms caught against the pool table. Sammy apparently felt the handcuffs and the bits of sweater. A noise of disgust and anger slipped out of the music director. “How  dare you restrain me!”

“Like you wouldn’t have jumped me if you had seen me first.”Henry pointed out. “This way, I don’t have to deal with you knocking me out and trying to sacrifice me to the Ink Demon in some weird ritual.”

“When I am free, you can be certain I will do just that.” Sammy said darkly.

“Shame that I’m leaving you handcuffed then, if you can’t see reason.” Henry said.

“I am His prophet!” Sammy insisted, sounding more frantic now. “I _must_ do as He wills! As the _ink_ wills!”

“And this ’will’ has something to do with the handcuffs happening to be lying around?” Henry questioned, checking on Bendy’s progress.

Bendy waved a hand and held up a cue stick eagerly.

Henry turned back to Sammy.

“That’s...I don’t know why there are handcuffs lying around.” Sammy spluttered, none too discreetly tugging at said handcuffs around his wrists.

“You tell yourself that.” Henry said. “Just better make sure that the Lost Ones aren’t, uh, hurting themselves.” Henry stood up, dismissing the music director as a lost cause.

Many of those who were trapped in this studio were unable to reason do to the ink driving them mad. 

“What do you think they would do with handcuffs?” Sammy sounded perplexed. Then, he gave his head a rough shake. “Stop trying to distract me! I must-“

It was in this exact moment that Sammy realized his mask was missing. To say that he was unhappy was an understatement. Sammy’s inky jaw was working, as though he was preparing to heap abuse on Henry over the loss of the mask.

“So before you go completely crazy again...” Henry cringed at the screaming demands that began to spew forth from Sammy to return his mask. “Never mind. But listen close. The Ink Demon isn’t around right now.” Henry narrowed his eyes at the music director. “Just me and my non-existent patience. So either call off the rest of the searchers in the music department and let us pass, or I’m going to leave you here.”

“My lord will destroy you!” Sammy shouted, as he completely ignored Henry’s words. “He will set us free!”

Well, it was worth a shot.

Henry tuned out Sammy’s increasingly frantic nonsense and waved a hand at Bendy to indicate that he could go first at the pool table.

Bendy eagerly maneuvered the cue stick, took aim with his tongue stuck out, before striking the balls.

Henry watched as each and every ball vanished from the table.

Bendy held out the cue stick to Henry with a smile.

“You know what? We should probably get going.” Henry held up his hands in response to the pout. “Hey, you would have won if you can sink all those balls in one go. I couldn’t do that.”

Bendy seemed placated by this and set the cue stick aside, jumping off the pool table and trailing along after Henry. Bendy moved a little faster over the sound of Sammy’s jubilant cry.

“My lord! You have appeared to us in your original form! Please! Set me free! Set us all free from this place!”

Bendy clung to Henry’s offered hand as Sammy’s praises and pleas continued to tumble out.

“My lord? Are you not pleased with what has been done? Has not enough been given? What more is needed to have your favor? Will you have mercy on the wretched in this dark place?”

Henry felt Bendy’s hand grasp his left tighter, only to let go when Henry had to retrieve his axe at the sight of searchers. There were more than was usual for the music department, and the searchers had appeared just outside of the recording room and Sammy’s sanctuary. Henry hefted the axe, careful not to overly work his injured right hand.

It was time to bash some more inky heads in.


	6. Chapter 6

“Stay back.” Henry said grimly, without looking at Bendy. The toon went to hide as Henry stepped forward and swung the axe into the head of the first attacking searcher.

The inky head was further disfigured from the force behind the axe being swung. The inky creature blindly swiped a hand at Henry. It lost an arm to Henry’s next attack, causing it to flail and crash into another searcher, which caused them to fight amongst themselves.

Henry hacked through several more inky bodies grasping at him with gloopy hands, heedless of the ink that began to stain his clothing and exposed skin.

The searchers moaned pitifully but continued to swarm Henry, heedless of the damage being piled upon them with each swing of the axe.

Bendy was hiding behind a nearby doorway, his gloved hands over his face. The toon’s pie-cut eyes peeked out now and again to make sure that Henry was okay.

A searcher got a hold of one of Henry’s legs, but as it was the last one, it didn’t get a chance to do anything more. The axe lopped its head off, before the blade hit the rest of the body over and over, flinging thick globs of ink everywhere.

It became eerily quiet after that.  
  
There were no more searchers left to fight.

Henry’s chest was heaved with effort from all of the wild swings, his breath coming in harsh and erratic, sweat soaked skin mixing with the ink.

That had been exhausting, but at the same time, it had been so damn satisfying to send the searchers back into the inky puddles from whence they had come.

Henry’s palms were slick from the ink that had splattered the axe. Henry let out an exasperated breath as he leaned the axe against his leg to wipe his hands off on his sweater. He repeated the gesture on the axe’s handle. With a slow exhale, Henry picked the axe back up in his left hand and turned to Bendy.

He wasn’t there.

Henry looked again, and then spotted the little devil darling peering at him from the open doorway that led to Sammy’s office. Henry crossed through the ink all over the floor to that doorway.

Bendy nervously looked at the axe before looking up at Henry.

“It’s the quickest way to deal with them.” Henry told the toon. “The last time I tried to avoid a fight with searchers, I was eventually smothered by them and died.” Henry shook his head. “Let’s try to get out of this level of the studio. We don’t want to have to deal with Sammy, if he’s able to get free. You don’t want him to decide to start a ritual sacrifice.”

Bendy tilted his head to the side curiously.

“If you don’t know about it, then you’ll probably sleep better.” Henry informed the toon. “It isn’t pleasant. I still have nightmares about it. Just leave it at that.”

Bendy shrugged his shoulders as he stared down the hall, before looking up at Henry again.

“We need to find a key to the closet and...wait.” Henry walked over to a door and peeked inside.

The organ was there, that, when played, made that creepy tortured moan emit from out of nowhere.  


Nope.  


Henry wasn’t going to subject Bendy to that. He’d already upset the toon enough with the destruction of those ink monsters.  Henry opened another door further along the hall and poked his head inside.  It had a desk and some paper, along with a bottle of ink. 

Much better.

Way less creepy.

“Hey, why don’t you do a drawing while I go get the information I need to open up Sammy’s sanctuary?” Henry suggested.

Bendy perked up at this, looking excited at the prospect. The toon eagerly agreed by sitting at the desk and pulling a piece of paper close. 

“You’ll be okay on your own for a few minutes?” Henry double checked.

Bendy nodded in a distracted manner, his face set in a line of intense concentration as he carefully opened up the bottle of ink.

Henry quietly closed the door, and then swiftly stood up and began to approach the locked closet with dark intention.

It was axe time.

Henry wildly hacked away at the door until he was able to wrench it open.

Fucking take _that_ , missing keys!

Henry was _not_ rooting around through trash cans if he didn’t have to.Henry even produced a scrap of paper from his pocket to write down the important part of Sammy’s long-winded explanation of how to get into his sanctuary.

Violin, piano, drum, violin.

Henry had the order of music in hand, and would now have to go through the process of running from the projector on the upper floor and then back down to the recording room.

Unless...

“How’s it going?” Henry asked as he returned to the room he had left Bendy in. Henry smiled over the way the toon came over to him and held up a few pictures. Henry accepted the offered papers and looked through the drawings.

Boris the wolf with a crooked smile. Alice Angel wearing a happy smile. Several sketches of Bendy himself. There was even an attempted doodle of Henry.

“Wow. I’m impressed. These are really good, considering I wasn’t gone for very long.” Henry handed the pictures back, and Bendy carefully set them on a shelf, out of range of the ink pipe overhead. “Going to leave them in here?”

Bendy simply nodded.

Henry didn’t question the toon’s decision, and instead led the way out of the room and back down the hall to the recording area. Henry made sure his axe was still hanging from the makeshift sheathe of rope he had around his waist before speaking. “Hey, Bendy? Do you think you could turn the projector on for me? Before I can play the music, I need the reel to be running.”

For some stupid reason.

If only Henry were strong enough to throw something at the projector. At least he had the order of the musical instruments to play this time. Henry didn’t think he could hack through the ‘sanctuary’ door without breaking his axe, and he would need to hold onto it for as long as was possible.

Bendy looked up at the projector and then back to Henry.

“If it’s a problem, I can do it.” Henry made sure to tell the toon. He didn’t want Bendy to think he was making demands. ”I was just trying to make it easier to avoid being heard by Sammy, and I can’t exactly...climb up there from here. I’d have to run out of the room and back.”

Bendy stared up at the projector before he suddenly hopped onto a chair and then, with a surprising leap, caught the railing above and pulled himself over. With a great big grin, Bendy waved down to Henry.

“Great job! You made that look easy!” Henry congratulated the toon.He pulled out the scrap of paper from his pocket as Bendy turned the projector on.

Time to pluck some strings, slap a few piano keys and smack a drum.

Easy enough, when Henry wasn’t running from the upper floor where the projector was.  The number of times he messed it up in the past and had to redo everything...

Henry had the urge to go slap Sammy for making his sanctuary so damn complicated to open up, instead of locking it with a key like a normal person.

Nothing was easy in this studio, even after Henry been trapped inside it for so long. Henry was relieved that he got the sanctuary to open in one go. Henry tilted his head back to check on Bendy, and felt a leap of panic go through him.

“Uh...not to alarm you, Bendy, but the music man is standing behind you.” Henry said of the sight of Sammy standing behind the toon.

“How dare you speak to my lord directly!” Sammy yelled in a rather dramatic fashion as he stalked past Bendy to better rave at Henry. “You think that you are equal to His greatness? To dare speak to Him in such familiar terms?”

“Tone it down, Sammy.” Henry said tiredly. “I have my axe. You really don’t want to test my patience right now.”

“You will regret coming here!” Sammy continued on, as if not hearing Henry. “A sacrifice must soon be made. It is quite fortunate for me that you came here when you did.”

“How are you going to accomplish sacrificing anyone while wearing handcuffs, Sammy?” Henry asked, as he cast a quick glance to Bendy, who was slowly inching his way toward the railing. 

“Do not question me on the logistics!” Sammy snapped, making it clear he  hadn’t thought of that little detail. “As His prophet, I will-“

Bendy hopped up onto the railing.

Sammy’s attention was diverted.

Henry watched with bated breath, not willing to go for the valve in the sanctuary without Bendy knowing that he wasn’t leaving him.

“My lord, please!” Sammy ended up groveling on the floor in front of the railing where Bendy was standing. It was difficult for Sammy to not fall over because his hands were still cuffed behind his back. “Help me secure this tender sheep! I will do anything for you in return, my lord! I only wish to please you and-“

Henry quickly moved forward, reaching up to catch Bendy as the little devil darling leapt off the railing. It seemed that Bendy wanted to get away from Sammy feverishly trying to worship him, even as the music director kept making offers and promises in return for salvation from this place.

“My lord!”Sammy got to his feet, almost falling over the railing in his haste to get up. “Are you all right?” Sammy gasped in an offended way as he caught sight of Henry holding Bendy in his arms. Sammy puffed up in anger. “How-“

“Yeah, yeah. How dare I catch my own creation to prevent him from hurting himself.” Henry interrupted Sammy in a bored drawl.

Searchers spawned all around Henry and Bendy as Sammy screamed furiously from above, words forgotten. Sammy’s crazed ink-washed mind latched onto the fact that a non-believer has dared to be anywhere near his lord and savior.

Henry ran toward the sanctuary as the searchers lurched toward him all at once, spurred on by Sammy’s fury. Henry let Bendy down to the floor near the sanctuary. Henry ran inside and frantically threw himself toward the valve, turning it. Henry took his axe in hand, and turned to Bendy.

He was gone.

But the toon had just been with him.

Oh no.

“Bendy?” Henry asked, feeling some fear and worry rise within him as he hurried to the entrance of the sanctuary. 

No...

Had the searchers somehow managed to surround Bendy in those few seconds, preventing him from getting into the sanctuary?

Henry tightly gripped his axe, an angry glint in his eyes. He was going to destroy those bastards if they so much put an inky finger on the toon. Bendy was the first good thing to happen to Henry in this damn place in a long while, apart from the Boris he would later meet. Henry wasn’t going to lose that so soon.

This loop was only just starting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all are ok with the fact that I plan on this fic covering the entirety of the game, with additions. I needed a dose of humor (dark and otherwise) and my mind latched onto the idea and went running wild with it (halfway into ch 3 of the game and beyond in this fic will get into Henry really losing it and having the population that’s trapped in the studio start to fear him too).
> 
> The updates will start to have more time between them soon. But until then, I figured I would get as many chapters out as possible while I have the momentum going. Shorter chapter means easier writing and edits for me, so I’d guess that this would eventually be a once a week update (so long as the chapters keep coming easily to me).


	7. Chapter 7

“Bendy!” Henry called out again, readying his axe. He was fully prepared to bash in a bunch of searcher heads if that was what it took to get to the toon. Henry’s violent thoughts came to a sudden stop as he himself came to an abrupt halt. Henry at the scene before him, baffled.

Bendy was surrounded by searchers, all right. 

But the toon wasn’t being harmed, and that was the important point Henry took away from his quick once over of the matter at hand.

The inky creatures seemed to be mesmerized by the toon’s presence. The searchers were acting as though they were seeing the little devil darling for the first time, instead of the inky monstrosity they were used to that lurked in the studio.

Even Sammy had fallen silent overhead. The music director, much like the searchers, seemed to be similarly distracted by the sight.

It was, quite frankly, bizarre, this sudden halt in activity.

Bendy turned to Henry and waved cheerfully to him, even if his face was set in a worried frown.

Henry cautiously began to walk past the immobile searchers.

This was...a first.  


Henry never thought he’d see the day where being surrounded by searchers didn’t result in some form of a fight.

Did they truly recognize the toon? Is that why they were so passive and non-aggressive? Or were they merely curious upon seeing something new in the studio?

The fact that the searchers weren’t attacking Henry as he passed by each one made him a little nervous. Henry half expected them to turn on him as soon as his back was exposed to one.

Nothing of the sort happened.

Henry reached Bendy’s side without incident.

“Bendy, we need to get out of here.” Henry murmured, completely ignoring the way that Sammy had snapped out of his trace and began to scream in fury once more.

The anger only seemed to grow when Sammy realized that he was unable to encourage the searchers to attack Henry, who was again much too close to Bendy for Sammy’s liking.

“Don’t worry, I won’t attack these searchers.” Henry added, when he saw the toon hesitate. “I just want to get out of this room, before Sammy can get through to them and we get swarmed.”

Bendy looked reassured as he took Henry’s hand and carefully led the way through the second half of the silent, watching searchers.

The inky beings remained in place apart from turning their heads in unison to watch the toon and human depart.

Henry took notice of Sammy’s sudden silence and took a quick glance back before stepping through the doorway.  


The man was gone. That was not a good sign, even if the music director was still handcuffed.

“Let’s get to Sammy office.” Henry told Bendy.

They both started to run down the hall, just missing the sound of Sammy’s cursing as the inky man fell down a flight of stairs. 

“New plan. We’re skipping the next valve. We’re going to just break the window to get to the lever.” Henry hoped this would work.

Hope.

It was a funny thing.

Henry had been fast losing hope the longer he was trapped in this place. But now, he felt a bit more of that hope, and picked up a music stand from one of the rooms in the hall, as well as a chair.

If Sammy showed up in the process of breaking into the office, perhaps Henry could just bash Sammy’s head against the glass repeatedly until it broke. If nothing else, doing such a thing would vastly improve Henry’s mood.

“I won’t let you insult our lord and savior!” Sammy’s distant shout rang out from another room. “I won’t let you escape! _He_ will not let you leave this place for this insult! The Ink Demon will take you, if my lord in His original form will not!”

Henry ran just a bit faster, with Bendy close on his heels.

The toon wore a worried little frown.

Henry and Bendy reached Sammy’s office without the music director appearing. Henry took this as a good sign and focused on the task at hand.

Getting into the office.

It was a bit more difficult than Henry had anticipated it would be.

Henry used the music stand to bash against the window. When the music stand broke, Henry used the chair. After that, he began to use anything he could get his hands on to throw at the window of Sammy’s office.

Bendy helpfully brought more random objects for Henry to use when the human broke whatever he had been using.

It took some time, but finally, Henry saw that he was beginning to get somewhere as cracks began to appear across the glass.

“Break already, damn you!” Henry swore at the window. He could feel himself tire more  the longer he smacked random objects against the glass.

Finally, the glass broke in a shower of sharp shards.

Henry let out a worn out laugh as Bendy clapped his hands. Henry carefully climbed into the office and leaned over to help Bendy inside, though Henry was sure that the toon wouldn’t have hurt himself on the glass.

Bendy, once inside, wandered over to the desk to turn on the radio.

Music filled the office.

Henry pulled the lever to drain the stairs, feeling satisfied that he didn’t have to go down to the infirmary this time. Henry about-faced, smiling as he caught sight of Bendy dancing to the music.

The toon smiled wide in return before returning to capering about in a happy manner.

Henry let it go on until the music came to an end, before he climbed back out of the office. Henry was careful not to nick his hands on the shards of glass.

Bendy went over the shards of glass smoothly, showing Henry that the toon hadn’t needed any help before, but was fine with accepting assistance if it was offered to him.

“Let’s hope that Sammy is still sprawled at the bottom of some staircase. It’d be nice to leave the music department quietly.” Henry told Bendy as they walked down the hall. It was a relief to Henry to know that Sammy wasn’t going to come up from behind and smack him over the back of the head with that damn metal dust pan.

All was going well, until Henry and Bendy reached the doorway that led to the now drained stairwell.  Henry was incredibly exasperated to find Sammy blocking the path, his inky body trembling with rage, the Bendy mask askew.

The handcuffs were still in place, so Sammy’s attempt at being intimidating failed miserably with his arms secured behind his back.

Henry didn’t even give the man a chance to speak. Instead, Henry charged forward and slugged Sammy in the face, cracking the mask. The punch sent the music director stumbling backward to the ground but not before Sammy smacked the back of his head against the doorframe.

Sammy collapsed on the floor, immobile.

That had felt good.

Bendy had stayed back out of the way, obviously confident that Henry could deal with Sammy on his own this time.

Henry let out a slow sigh, before he leaned over and gripped Sammy’s overalls, to begin to drag him along. The music director’s limp body thumped behind Henry stair by stair as Henry headed down to the door at the base of the drained stairwell.

This would be a first.

Henry had no idea what lie behind the door.

Bendy helpfully bounded ahead of Henry and opened the door.

Henry couldn’t help but pat the toon between the horns affectionately with his free hand.Henry stepped through the door with Sammy in tow, before he froze in place, even as he heard Bendy close the door.

Henry experienced a terrible sinking feeling. Not even Bendy coming over to tug at the hem of his torn up sweater helped distract him.

Why were they _here_?

Henry, most unfortunately, recognized this place. It was the same room that Sammy brought him to in his attempt to sacrifice Henry to the Ink Demon. Henry looked around, and confirmed this with the sight of the pentagram drawn on the floor.

Damn.

So it really didn’t matter whether or not he was knocked out? Henry would end up in the same place either way?

That was stupid.

This should have been a way out, or at the very least, a better way to move forward in the studio than the one Henry was usually forced to go with. The human’s disappointment was palpable. Henry couldn’t help but let frustration start to trickle in.

Now what?

With Sammy unconscious, and the door that led to the usual escape path closed...

Henry’s gaze fell on another door. His mind raced, trying to find a solution.

Bendy tugged on the sweater again.

A slow smile spread across Henry’s face as he looked down at the prone Sammy. Henry then brought his gaze to the post in the pentagram.

Sammy _was_ always trying to get the Ink Demon’s attention, so...

“You do say that you want it to hear you.” Henry told the unconscious music director. Henry’s smile grew.“I’m sure offering you as an alternative sacrifice will get things moving along nicely.”

Naturally, Sammy didn’t respond.

Bendy, meanwhile, was confused as well as very concerned over Henry’s sudden shift in mood.


	8. Chapter 8

“Bendy? Do you see any rope around?” Henry asked the toon. The sooner Henry could tie Sammy up, the better.

Bendy tapped his foot as he looked around the immediate area, before he waved to Henry in what appeared to be acknowledgement. The little devil darling wandered away from Henry’s side, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Henry would have looked for the rope himself but felt that he ought to keep an eye on Sammy.

And speaking of the unconscious music director...

Henry needed to get him into position for when Bendy located the rope. Henry knew there had to be some nearby, since Sammy always tied him up in this place. Henry struggled to heft Sammy’s dead weight across the floor and over to the post within the pentagram.

Odd.

Henry had had no trouble dragging Sammy along earlier. With a loud exhale, Henry propped Sammy in a seated position up against the pole. When Henry turned his head, Bendy was back by his side, grinning again.

Bendy triumphantly held up the rope he found.

”Thanks.” Henry told the toon. “Now let’s get the music man here all tied up, nice and tight.” Henry smiled humorlessly to himself over the familiar words even if he didn’t explain himself to the somewhat confused toon. Henry set about securing Sammy to the post, wanting to make it as hard as possible for the still handcuffed man to get free. Sammy was nothing if not tenacious, so even with the added restraint, Henry doubted it would hold him for long.

If Sammy was really motivated to get free, he would find a way.

“Don’t want you wandering away now, do we?” Henry mocked, feeling a great deal of satisfaction as he tied the final knot and stood up.

Sammy’s head listed to the side with all of the jostling he’d just experienced. A soft groan slid out of him, the broken Bendy mask just barely managing to stay together. 

“Over here.” Henry told Bendy, intent on keeping the toon with him. He opened the door that Sammy would usually go in to after speaking his piece to Henry. Bendy followed Henry into the room after skirting around Sammy, keeping a healthy distance between them.

The room inside was sparse but Henry located the microphone inside quickly. He found that locating the lever for the door was a bit harder. Henry decided to speak, or rather yell, into the mic while he looked for that damn lever. Henry could hear his voice echo over the speakers in the other room.

Bendy looked utterly lost, as if he didn’t know what to think of Henry’s display other than grow further concerned for the man.

“Hey, you inky bastard!” Henry shouted. “Come take your self- proclaimed prophet. He’s not going anywhere, so come get yourself a snack!”

All of the shouting  must have woken Sammy up because the music director could be heard spluttering in confusion through the half-open door. 

“Come on, you fucking monster!” Henry went on, raising his voice even more. “Get your skeletal ass over here for a fresh sacrifice!” 

Bendy scoured the entire room and finally located the lever. The toon reached up to pull it down. Bendy grinned over at Henry as soon as the sound of the door opening could be heard.  


“Thanks, Bendy. I didn’t think about checking behind that crate.” Henry dropped the mic and held out his hand for Bendy’s, not liking the sound of something crawling around overhead.

“That crawling noise is our cue to get out of here.” Henry took Bendy’s hand as the toon popped up alongside him. The two hurried out of the room, Henry intent on heading straight for the newly opened exit out of this room.  


Thankfully, the Ink Demon had yet to show up.

“My lord!” Sammy struggled against the ropes. “Please! Do not leave your prophet behind!” Sammy’s head raised to face Henry. “You! You still _dare_ to think that you are equal to Him. You will not last in this place. I will find you, and make you pay for such an insult to our savior.” Sammy switched his attention back to Bendy, some despair slipping into his voice as he begged. “Please, my lord! Please don’t go with him. I beg of you! Stay here with me. Let me do as you will, and set us free in exchange! Anything, my lord. Please! Set us all free from this place!”

Bendy let go of Henry’s hand to run a little faster toward the now open door. The toon  seemed to be very uncomfortable with Sammy’s words.

”My lord! Please, don’t go!”

Henry met Bendy at the open door with his axe in hand, and began to lead the two of them along his usual path from previous loops. Henry hacked through the planks that were in the way one by one. He briefly paused to give the middle finger to the Ink Machine as it slowly lowered on his right.   


Bendy studied this action curiously before he stared at his own hand. Then, Bendy cheerfully jabbed a finger at the empty space where the Ink Machine had been before following after Henry.

Soon, there were only a few planks left. 

Henry put the axe back in his makeshift belt and used his bare hands to tear down the rest of the planks. He was not going to make the mistake of letting his axe break as it usually would around this point. No, Henry had plans for the last bit of the axe’s life. Not even splinters of wood nicking his hands would deter Henry.

Behind Henry and Bendy, faint shouts could still be heard from Sammy, which indicated that the Ink Demon had not yet gone after him.

Huh.

Why hadn't the Ink Demon come?   


Henry had made enough noise, hadn’t he?

Maybe it was just...biding its time?

That was a terrifying thought.

Henry dropped the last of the plank pieces to the floor. Henry held his right hand tightly for a moment, his bandaged wounds aching over tearing at the boards.  


Bendy stared at Henry’s hand with a worried frown.

”We can’t stop and rest yet.” Henry told the toon as he let out a slow breath.

Sammy’s yelling suddenly stopped.

Henry briefly glanced over his shoulder. Had Sammy been silenced? Or had the music director fallen quiet to focus on freeing himself?  


Now wasn’t the time to go back and check.  Neither option would be good for them.

Henry instead hefted the axe into his hands once more and approached the flooded room before him. As was usual, the path to his left was blocked, and Henry knew that he couldn’t squeeze his way through the mess blocking the path.  


He had tried several times before, and doing this only succeeded in making himself an easier target.  


Henry braced himself at the entrance to the flooded room, and despite expecting it, felt a sliver of fear as the Ink Demon slowly rose from the shallow pool of ink.  


Much more unnerving than it springing out of the ink like a demented jack-in-the-box.  


Henry held the axe firmly in his hands, a reckless smile crossing his lips as he stood in place, unwavering in his plan. 

The Ink Demon screeched and began to charge toward Henry and Bendy. 

The toon scrambled to get out of the way. Bendy’s hands clapped over his mouth in shock as he glanced back to check on Henry.  


The human was _running_ at the Ink Demon instead of _retreating,_ as any sane person would in the face of such a horrific creature.

Henry didn’t speak. He had nothing to say, anyway, so why waste breath?

The Ink Demon drew closer.  


Henry held his axe in a death grip.  


It was now or never. 

Henry swung the axe as hard as he could as  the Ink Demon reached out for him.

The inky creature screamed in fury as the axe embedded itself into the right side of its head.

Henry was honestly surprised that had worked. And damn, sinking the axe into its head was just as satisfying, if not more so, than punching the Ink Demon in the face.

The Ink Demon suddenly reared back with a garbled shriek of fury and back-handed Henry with its larger left hand.

Henry fell backward on his ass just outside the flooded room, temporarily stunned. 

Bendy hurried over to Henry’s side, tugging the human’s arm in hopes of getting Henry to stand up and run.

The Ink Demon screeched again as its maw parted, and then stretched further, so that it could bite down on the axe lodged in its head. 

The extra teeth and elongated mouth made the creature even more horror-inducing than before. 

“That was completely unnecessary.” Henry told the demon, his voice surprisingly calm. “You have hands that could pull that axe out of your head. There’s no need to be an eldritch horror show.” Henry waved a hand vaguely at the Ink Demon from head to toe. “This look you got going on? Not my intention to ever have Bendy look like this when I designed him.”

The Ink Demon spat out pieces of the axe. Its head tilted to the side, presumably staring at Henry, before it snarled and renewed its charge. 

“Shit.” Henry scrambled to get his feet beneath him.

Bendy continued to try to assist Henry before he let go and reached for something on the floor.   


The Ink Demon almost seized Henry with its gloved hand before it halted. A ‘thunk’ sounded out from a can of bacon soup that bounced off of one of its horns.

“Bendy!” Henry was grateful for the diversion, since it meant that he was able to get to his feet. Henry began to run, reaching out with his hands to urge Bendy on along in front of him. “Run for the door! Hurry!”

The toon went on ahead without further encouraging.

Henry wasn’t so lucky.

It never would have occurred to him that the Ink Demon might leap _through the air_ at him.

Henry let out a gasp as he was tackled to the floor by the skeletal form of the Ink Demon. Henry was unable to get father than onto his back when the Ink Demon screeched right in his face at the same time teeth snapped down.

But the teeth weren’t the danger this time.  It was the Ink Demon’s claws as it dug its right hand into Henry’s left shoulder.

Henry felt a surge of agony shoot though his body, already feeling the newly inflicted injury bleeding.

Not good.

The Ink Demon dragged three of its claws just above Henry’s shoulder blade ans one locked in near his collarbone, in order to get a better hold.

It hurt.

Henry felt like his entire shoulder and arm was on fire.

In an act of pure desperation to get those claws _out_ , Henry shifted on his back and then jerked his foot up into the demon.

A crotch shot should _not_ have worked and yet, it did.

The Ink Demon’s claws let go immediately.

Henry was not going to think too deeply about this. 

He wasn’t. 

There were some horrors best left forgotten, and one of those horrors was the Ink Demon’s anatomy.

Okay, he was done thinking about it now.

Henry hastily crab-walked backward before getting to his feet, feeling very unsteady. Largely in part to his new flesh wound. Henry’s left hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder as much as he could, and hurried in the direction that Bendy had gone.  


The Ink Demon remained on the ground for a time, writhing around and letting out a pained hissing noise as it curled in on itself.

Bendy suddenly ran out of the darkness to grab Henry’s sweater by its hem, and began to urge the man along faster.

Henry was thankful for the toon’s presence. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to focus on escape with the pain rolling through his shoulder and down the length of his arm. 

The Ink Demon screamed in rage seconds later and could be heard charging after them with renewed vigor.  


It sounded furious.

Henry supposed he would be too if someone kicked him _there._

The Ink Demon suddenly emerged through one of the inky walls closest to the fleeing toon and human. The inky creature was limping a little more than was usual as it swiped with its larger gloved hand, its teeth parted to better scream its displeasure.

”The door.” Henry told Bendy as the Ink Demon closed in on them from behind. Henry wrenched the door open, and watched as Bendy all but flew inside with a fearful look, his smile gone. Henry turned in time to slam the door shut right in the creature’s face.

Always a good time.

Unfortunately, as Henry placed the wooden plank to keep the door locked, he knew that he couldn’t fully enjoy the small victory.  He was still bleeding profusely, and from the dizziness setting in, he was liable to collapse and pass out any second now. He had, in fact, fallen to his knees.

Not a smart thing to do in a place like this.

The door shuddered from the Ink Demon ramming into it but the pounding on the door and the angry screeches soon became background noise.

Henry did not know if he imagined it or not in his pain, but it almost seemed as if _something_ was crawling through his arm. Henry briefly closed his eyes. He had been serious before when he had instructed Bendy to cut off his hand if he started to transform into some monster. Henry would have insisted on the whole entire arm then and there due to his new injury, had Henry not felt a sense of urgency to get to Boris. He knew that the toon wolf had medical supplies stored in his safe house.

Bendy didn’t seem to want Henry to move unnecessarily but when the human made motions to get back up, the toon merely moved forward to help Henry back to his feet.

“Bendy...” Henry’s hand pressed against his shoulder harder, feeling much more unsteady on his feet than before. “We need to get to Boris’ safe house.”

Bendy perked up with a curious head tilt.

“It is _a_ Boris.” Henry amended. “There are a lot of them down here, but this Boris...he is only one of two who are...in motion, that I’m aware of.” Henry didn’t even want to know what Bendy would think should he see a Boris with the chest torn open.  


It was a horrible sight.  


Henry put one foot in front of the other as he grit his teeth against the sharp ache of his wound.  Henry told himself firmly that he could rest once he knew that he and Bendy would be safe with Boris.

The dizziness continued on, as did the shortness of breath that came from the pain of the Ink Demon’s claws sinking into his skin.

Henry stubbornly pushed through the agonizing pain he was experiencing, one thought on his mind.

Boris.

They had to get to Boris.

The Ink Demon’s teeth hadn’t stopped Henry, so neither would its claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time. I am not sure at what point I will raise the rating. For now, I’m waiting until I get to the more violent (?) bits. Unless smacking the Ink Demon in the face with an axe or crotch-shots to a demon’s nether region counts.


	9. Chapter 9

Henry and Bendy left behind the sound of the Ink Demon furiously clawing at the door.

Bendy tugged at Henry’s sweater in an attempt to keep him shuffling forward despite the pain he clearly was in.

Henry moved as best he could, relieved he didn’t have a wounded leg. But as the furious screams of the Ink Demon faded away, Henry found that he was having trouble focusing on his current predicament.

Realistically, a bleeding wound should have taken every ounce of his concern. But Henry also just happened to be letting that concentration drift. Because despite his best (mediocre, really) efforts to not think about what he had just learned about the Ink Demon, he did.

Namely, the fact that crotch shots were somehow an acceptable means of deterring the inky being.

Henry let out of huff of irritation for his mind going back to that. His right hand pressed hard against the warmth on his shoulder. 

Bad Henry.

Pay attention to the _still bleeding_ claw marks on your body.

...it was easier said than done.

Morbid curiosity was winning out, as Henry vaguely wondered just how hard he could kick the Ink Demon to incapacitate it for a longer time.

Bendy seemed to sense Henry’s drifting thoughts and tugged at the sweater again.

Henry gave his head a shake, not realizing that he had stopped walking. 

Right.  


Bendy wanted him to keep moving. So Henry would keep walking. He was bleeding. Maybe he even had an infected wound. Either way, he needed attention for the injury as soon as possible.

The claw marks gouged in his skin ached terribly.

Henry decided to focus on remaining conscious. 

That was easy enough, right?  


Henry didn’t want to upset the toon traveling with him, if he happened to pass out without getting to relative safety first. Henry took one final step forward, and let out a relieved sigh as the expected can of soup rolled into view. Henry bit back the urge to say his usual words of demanding someone to show themselves.  


Stupid thing to do the first time, really. He hadn’t known who would show themselves. It could have been an enemy, for all he knew. But luckily, it had been a friendly wolf each time.

Henry noticed the way Bendy hid behind him when there came the sound of approaching footsteps.

Boris.

Right on schedule.

“Hey.” Henry pressed his hand tightly to his wounded right shoulder. Henry offered a small, tired smile. “I don’t suppose you...you happen remember me from the last loop?”

Anyone else might have given Henry a blank stare.

But not Boris.

Boris smiled with his sharp wolf teeth and gave an unmistakable nod.

Henry didn’t realize how much he was hoping for Boris to recognize him until he realized that his shoulders had slumped in profound relief.  


Ouch, that hurt his wounds.  


But Boris recognizing him would make things much easier.  


Henry would not have to spend an absurd amount of time earning the toon wolf’s trust again.  


Boris came forward to give Henry a careful hug, the toon wolf obviously happy to see him. Boris stepped back, his happiness changing to worry as the toon wolf realized that Henry’s shoulder wound was still bleeding. 

“Yeah...the Ink Demon wasn’t happy to see me.” That was an understatement. Damn thing might have tired to use him as a chew toy before killing him. “I’m hoping that you have medical supplies back at your place.” Henry looked down at Bendy. “I brought another friend with me this time around.”

Boris’ ears stood up a little straighter as he sniffed the air before a perplexed look crossed his muzzle. Then, he shuffled around Henry, and saw Bendy.

Bendy shyly hid his face, clinging to the back of Henry’s pants. The little devil darling didn’t seem certain how to react to a toon who was Boris, and yet not the  actual cartoon Boris.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Henry noticed Bendy’s unease. “He’s a nice Boris, even if he doesn’t remember who he was before becoming one.”

Boris crouched down and stared at Bendy with his head cocked to the side, ears flicking. The toon wolf studied the other with obvious curiosity before fixing Henry with a stare.

“All I know is that I desperately hoped for the real Bendy in the last loop.” Henry had figured out how to read Boris’ silent body language and expressions. “So, here the little devil darling is, as if he hopped off the screen.”

Bendy finally peeked at Boris, hands still holding onto Henry’s pants.

Boris raised a hand and gave the other toon a little wave. Then, with a little look of uncertainty, held both arms open, as if asking for a hug.

It was out of character, in a way, but at the same time, it made Henry wonder if who Boris used to be was making a bit of an appearance. Henry recognized the gesture for what it was, and Henry was rather surprised that Boris was open to being trusting of someone new so quickly.

Bendy appeared to understand what the toon wolf wanted, because he wore agreat big toothy grin again. Bendy let go of Henry’s pants, but hesitated as he shot a quick glance up to the human.

”Don’t worry, it isn’t a trick.” Henry assured the toon devil. “He enjoys giving everyone he likes hugs. Be flattered he opened up to you so quickly.”

Bendy seemed to be cheered by this news because the toon happily ran over and let Boris give him a great big hug.

“Hey guys?” Henry felt bad for interrupting the rather cute scene of the two toons now dancing around in a little circle. “I think the Ink Demon can infect wounds with the ink it is covered in.”

A sharp, stabbing pain mixed in with the ache.

Boris released Bendy’s hands as both toons turned to Henry.

“I meant it when I said that I wanted you to lop off a limb if I started to transform into some monster.” Henry directed to Bendy. Henry staggered over to the wall and sank down to the floor hard as he leaned back. “This wound is acting like the one my hand did.” The worry of the unknown and some panic began to sink in. “Sorry. I thought I’d be able to make it to...the safe house before the pain really set in.”

Both toons were suddenly crouched on either side of Henry, both quiet but clearly worried from their expressions.

“Maybe the Ink Demon put some paralyzing agent in the ink to slow its prey.” Henry mumbled. “Make it easier to catch me.”  Why was he feeling more feverish than before?

Was the injury infected?

Henry supposed that the Ink Demon’s claws weren’t very sanitary.

“If the infection spreads and I start to try to bite or claw someone, make sure I don’t. Take me out instead.” Henry muttered, his voice growing fainter.

Huh.

When did he end up on the floor?

Henry closed his eyes. The world had begun to spin and he felt sick to his stomach. There was what felt like a burning ache that had begun to spread beneath the wound. Maybe the transformation was already beginning. 

An unsettling thought trickled in.

Could the Ink Demon control Henry with the ink that it had gotten into his bloodstream from the injuries inflicted this far?

“Hope there’s not...mind control.” Henry’s voice was beginning to slur. One of the toon’s had put their hand on his forehead. “Don’t need...sci fi in m’ life too...” Henry toon a short breath. “...dun let Ink b’strd...get m’ hand or...or shoulder meat either...my body n’ blood.”

Mercifully, the burning ache of his wounds and the unnerving thoughts of what the Ink Demon could and couldn’t do did not follow Henry into the dark of unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

Its prey had escaped. 

That was not what was supposed to happen.

Not this time.

The Ink Demon snarled in fury as it clawed at the door.

It had had the human within its clutches. Whatever the human had done to it, the sudden unexpected pain had caused the Ink Demon to release its hold.

Now, it was left with a shut door that it couldn’t get through, and the liquid on its claws that wasn’t the familiar ink of the studio.

The Ink Demon’s gloved hand lightly tapped the door, before it stepped back altogether. The Ink Demon gave up on getting through, as the voice on the other side of the door had faded. The inky creature’s teeth clacked together before it straightened up as best it could.

A flick of a black tongue confirmed that what was on the claws the Ink Demon was cleaning wasn’t ink. The taste was coppery, whatever that meant. The flavor was the same as before, when its teeth cut the human’s hand. The not-ink wasn’t warm this time. Only when the demon had sank its claws into the human had it sensed the warmth.

The Ink Demon’s tongue slid back into its mouth as teeth snapped together.

It wanted more of that taste.

More of that warmth.

The Ink Demon made a slight noise of discomfort as it turned away from the door. Its body still ached from the kick the human had given it.

Why did it hurt?

The human had not harmed it before like this, apart from playing the Reel.

The spines going down the Ink Demon’s back flexed as the inky being twisted its body to and fro to inspect the immediate area. It remembered the previous loops, even if it didn’t fully understand why it was repeating the same actions. But it learned from each of the loops, and found it could adapt more every time. The Ink Demon _studied_ the human it would always encounter.

This time...this loop...there was something different about it.

The Ink Demon could grasp more than ever before, and yet...

And yet...

Hissing something to the empty space around it that made no sense to any but itself, the Ink Demon slowly limped toward the nearest wall.

It would have the human...the _Beacon_ , as the Ink Demon had begun to think of the human as more loops passed by. The Ink Demon would _erase_ the Beacon from existence. _Destroy_ that wretched light the human brought with him. The Ink Demon growled softly as it waited for the shadowy webs of ink gather together on the wall.

The human...  


The human was a beacon of a terrible light that blinded the Ink Demon whenever the human was near. 

But that light...it made the demon hunger for something more than it had in this studio.  The Ink Demon didn’t know what that ‘something more’ was, but felt that it would find out once it killed the Beacon once and for all, and there were no more loops.

But first...something new had to be dealt with.  


The Other, who was traveling with the Beacon. 

The Other, who resembled the drawings on the walls and-

The Ink Demon paused, not stepping through the inky portal it had manifested on the wall as it bared its teeth.

It wanted to kill the Beacon. 

Yes, it wanted to kill the human. 

But the Ink Demon found itself distracted from those dark thoughts by the Other. The Ink Demon didn’t like the Other. The Other’s very existence angered it on some visceral level that the demon couldn’t fully understand. 

But why?

Was it the Other’s appearance?

The Ink Demon could see through the ink that fell into its vision. It could see that the smaller being looked very much like the cut-outs the Ink Demon would come across while wandering the studio. For whatever reason, the Ink Demon decided that it didn’t like the Other _because_ of how exact it looked like those cut-outs.

The Ink Demon left the area through the inky walls, the darkness that surrounded it slowly dissipating. The Ink Demon was only partially aware of the Follower, who had raced down the hall toward it in a frantic manner, shouting praises and other such nonsense.

-x-x-x-

“My lord! Wait!”

The ink on the wall, swirling and very wrong feeling, vanished into nothing.

Sammy face-planted onto the floor nearby in his haste to reach his lord and savior. Sammy clenched his fists, finally freed from the handcuffs, against the floor. The music director raised his head to glare to the right, to the door that the human had surely gone through.

How _dare_ he not pay proper respect to the Ink Demon. How _dare_ the human keep the company of his lord in His true cartoon form.

Sammy made the decision then and there that he would focus all his time and effort into finding the human. Sammy would make certain that this sheep would pay for defying  His will within this studio.

“Sheep sheep sheep, this is no time for escape.” Sammy sang listlessly as he produced an axe that had been hidden nearby. “You dig your own grave with every step you take.”

It always paid to keep extra weapons handy in the event one’s planned sacrifice made a run for it. 

“We can’t have a nonbeliever remain free to spread discontent.” Sammy muttered as he inspected the axe. “No, we can’t. Now, how far will my little lost sheep wander?” 

The Bendy mask suddenly broke in half and fell to the floor.

“Please forgive me, my lord!” Sammy was sent into a flying panic at the sight of the broken mask. “I did not mean to dishonor your imagine. It was the nonbeliever! He cracked the mask, as if he were attacking you, my savior!” Sammy dropped the axe and pulled the pieces to him. Sammy began to babble nonsense, as if he expected the Ink Demon to appear before him.

Nothing happened.

Had Sammy been spared?

”...Thank you, my lord.” Sammy murmured reverently. ”I know your mercy is not easily given in this place.” Sammy held the broken mask close. “I will not fail you a second time.” 

-x-x-x-

The Ink Demon, in another section of the studio, did not hear the Follower’s words, even if it had sensed the Follower earlier on its departure of the previous room.  The Follower was not a concern right now. The Follower was harmless to it, from those words of praise and the offers of live prey.

No, there was something else...something that was bothering the Ink Demon that it couldn’t quite figure out.  The almost-concern didn’t last for very long, for what could truly hurt or bother the Ink Demon for very long in a place where all feared it? 

There were, of course, some exceptions. 

The Follower and the Projectionist, as well as the Beacon, were notable examples of those who had little to no fear of the Ink Demon. Yet that fearlessness manifested in different forms...

...but why did that matter? Any that crossed its path would not survive, or at the very least, not come out unscathed.

The  Ink Demon began to wander aimlessly as it became lost in its own muddled thoughts, which now centered on the Beacon and the Other in its domain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ink Demon (and Sammy) will get pov chapters now and again, when Henry happens to temporarily be out of commission (eventually Bendy will get some pov chapters too). I have yet to decide if other characters will get pov when I get around to them.


	11. Not An Errand Boy This Time

_Henry carves through several searchers that attack him. Their inky hands grasp Henry.  
_

_A limb is cut off.  
_

_Then another.  
_

_Henry destroys each enemy that dares to cross him. He makes progress but is it slow with all the enemies.  
_

_It is a massacre.  
_

_Henry is numb._

_He is uncaring.  
_

_One more dead searcher is nothing to him.  
_

_Another Butcher Gang member is a blip on Henry’s radar.  
_

_He is covered in ink...no, in dark blood.  
_

_Dark blood instead of ink.  
_

_Henry continues on._

_Soon, none stand in his path.  
_

_It is quiet._

_The ink on the nearby wall spreads._

_The darkness closes in._

_Then, the_ _Ink Demon appears from inky shadows._

_Henry is unable to move._

_It hurts to breathe._

_The thump of Henry’s heart beats in the sudden silence._ _Henry feels the dark blood soaking into his skin and clothes. The ink that is there darkens and writhes._

_Henry is unable to move._

_The Ink Demon_ _approaches, and its hand stretches out in his direction._

_Henry’s body turns against him. The wounds inflicted by the Ink Demon at an earlier time prevent motion._

_The Ink Demon’s maw opens, and sharp fangs appear. They are no longer blunt as before.  
_

_‘ **Henry**...’ A familiar, yet not so familiar voice taunts him. **‘Run.’**_

_The Ink Demon closes in._

_It lunges._

_Henry is unable to move._

_The sharp fangs of the demon find their target._

_Henry is unable to scream as unimaginable pain splits his skull and..._

....

....

....

Henry woke up with a jolt, sweating and utterly  disoriented. He was even ready to reach for a non-existent weapon until his body was quick to remind him know that would be a bad idea.  


Right.  


His injury.  


Henry sagged backward into a soft surface. He was still in pain, and exhausted. It wasn’t too much of a surprise, considering he’d almost become the Ink Demon’s chew toy. Henry’s bandaged right hand rested lightly over his forehead as his eyes closed.

That dream...

That nightmare...

Henry’s eyes opened to stare at the darkened ceiling overhead. What Henry had seen...what he had felt...it had been much too realistic to his liking. Henry let out a slow sigh as he left his right hand move to rest across his stomach. He drowsily noted that the lights were dim, and after waking a little more, Henry recognized where he was.

The sleeping quarters of Boris’ safe house.

Henry knew that this meant that Bendy and Boris has not left him behind, and Henry appreciated that. The toons had been able to bring him to a place of safety, where Henry could recover from his wounds.

Safe.

It wouldn’t last, but Henry was happy for the reprieve nonetheless.

Henry turned his head to the side, where he could just make out Boris is in his hammock, asleep. Henry felt something shift against his side and he saw that Bendy was half curled on his chest, the rest of the toon’s body on the cot.

It was quiet.

Calm.

Henry really did appreciate that someone cared about him.

It was hard to find compassion in the ruins of this studio. 

Henry’s left shoulder was sore beneath what felt like bandages, and his sweater was nowhere to be seen, exposing his skin to the studio’s stagnant air. Perhaps the sweater had finally met its demise from being torn into by the Ink Demon’s claws. The good thing was that Henry’s shoulder didn’t ache nearly as terribly as it had before. Henry was able to think without the pain being too overwhelming. 

Teeth and claws...

Henry hoped that he wasn’t going to be full on bit the next time, since he knew he would eventually come face to face with the demon again. And the Ink Demon’s teeth, blunt or sharp, would cause a hell of a lot of damage depending on where it bit down. 

It was probably best to avoid being caught altogether.

Henry dozed off again but when he woke up, more conscious this time, he found Bendy and Boris standing alongside his cot, staring down at him and watching his every move. That would have been extremely creepy to wake up to if Henry hadn’t known that they wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hey guys.” Henry managed to say with a small smile. “Sorry for passing out like that earlier. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Boris offered a sharp smile in return even if those pie-cut eyes were concerned, and held up bandages and what appeared to be an ointment of sorts.  


“Yeah, the bandages are kind of...soaked through already.” Henry checked his shoulder and can see red dotting through the bandages. “Or will be very soon.” Henry held Bendy’s hand when the toon offered it, squeezing it reassuringly.   


Bendy didn’t look very assured but he held Henry’s left hand, looking anywhere but at Henry’s wound.  


Henry tried to help Boris remove the old bandages from his left shoulder and right hand, to get it ready to be cleaned dip and re-bandaged. Henry was distracted from assisting Boris when he saw the way ink stained his hand around where the teeth nicked him. A quick check, and Henry could see that his shoulder, or what he could see of it, was in a similar state. Henry tucked this information away, keeping it to himself for the time being.

There was no need alarm his companions.

The two toons were upset enough as it was that Henry had been injured.

Henry relaxed on the bed once the bandages were replaced. Henry couldn’t help but smile when Boris began to rummage for something nearby.

The toon wolf then pulled whatever it was out and into view.

It was a sweater that had been patched. 

Henry realized that it was his sweater.

Boris looked proud of himself for his handiwork.

“Thanks, buddy. But I think I’ll leave it off for now, so I don’t have fabric brushing against the bandages.” Henry told the toon, who nodded and hung it up nearby.

Henry let go of Bendy’s hand and took the next few minutes showing that he was capable of standing and moving without falling over. Henry walked carefully toward the bathroom area, trailed by Boris and Bendy. 

“Really, I’ll be all right.” Henry told the silent toons. “I’ll take it easy and not push myself too much.”

The toons quietly went to the main area of the safe house, even if they appeared reluctant to leave Henry alone in his state.  
  
Henry wouldn’t be out of their sight for long. Henry didn’t plan to linger in the bathroom for long. He just needed to see something before he joined his friends.

His reflection...Henry looked like himself, if only more exhausted each time he happened to come across a mirror.

What was he expecting to find?

That he somehow has morphed into a toon?

Henry sighed.

No matter how many loops he went through, he was always still human by the end. 

And yet...

The ink concerned him.

Henry lingered in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. He could see the telltale sight of the ink, and it was unnerving to see that it had spread outward beneath the newly placed bandages. Even his right hand showed ink spreading toward his finger tips from beneath the bandages.

“That can’t be good.” Henry muttered under his breath. Soon enough, his thoughts began to drift. His concerns over his wounds...what the hell he was doing here...

Henry briefly closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh.  


And now, it came down to what he would choose to do going forward. Henry didn’t much care any longer what happened to him in this place. But now that he had not one but two toons whom he would be traveling with for the foreseeable future, perhaps he should take more care. Henry didn’t want to leave the toons all alone but he had told himself that this time, he would be out for inky blood.

He would just need to go about things more carefully.

Henry opened his eyes and turned away from the mirror, banishing his darker thoughts for now. Henry carefully made his way out of the bathroom, and went to go join Bendy and Boris in the main room.

Boris, upon a seeing Henry, immediately guided the human over to a chair at the table.

Henry went willingly enough, as he felt he ought to get off his feet for a time. He didn’t actually want to keel over from not taking enough breaks.  


He would rest.

Recover.

Henry didn’t know how long he stayed in that safe house, but it was a calm time, and that wasn’t something that Henry got to often experience in the studio. Henry spent this time with his friends, amused by their antics when he was unable to participate from being too worn out.

They played cards games.

Ate a lot of soup.  


Made a likeness of the Ink Demon in another room and threw make-shift weapons at it.  


Ate more soup. 

Henry, after some encouragement from Bendy, stared to draw again.

Boris was delighted to put up the artwork.

It really was a good atmosphere to recuperate in, even if Henry did get concerned on days when Boris would go out on his own to gather supplies.

Mainly food, and paper for more drawings.

Interestingly, one of the lost ones would accompany Boris, and stick close to the toon. As it was non-threatening, Henry refrained from thinking about destroying the inky being.

This particular lost one seemed sadder than most.

At times, the lost one would leave on their own, or go with Boris when the toon wolf went back out to gather up supplies.

Bendy tried to occupy Henry’s mind during these times, as if the toon knew how worried Henry as about the toon wolf. Bendy would do silly antics, perform old cartoon acts, and sometimes, he would just dance around in Henry’s view while the human plucked at a banjo.

At times, if Boris were present, the toon wolf would join in on the dancing.

It made Henry more determined than ever to make certain that nothing bad would befall Boris this time. But more than that, Henry desperately wanted this calm and relaxed peace to last.

But it wouldn’t.

The peace and calm never lasted.

Not in a place like this.

Sooner or later, all three of them would have to leave the safe house, and enter back into the ink-stained halls of this cursed studio, where the Ink Demon and other monsters lurked.


	12. Chapter 12

The supplies had dwindled down to small pickings. 

Boris had been unable to gather enough supplies to sustain two toons and a human for a few days now.

Henry knew this would happen eventually but he had held out a speck of hope that he could enjoy the peace the safe house brought for a little while longer. When he saw the few cans of bacon soup left in the supplies, and Boris returning with no food, Henry knew they had to move on.

Sooner or later, the Ink Demon would find them.

Not if.

When.

Henry had been having increasingly worrying dreams, all involving the Ink Demon. He didn’t think that they meant anything but Henry didn’t want to take chances. Not after the last nightmare, where both Boris and Bendy were destroyed by the Ink Demon.

That wouldn’t happen.

Henry had a half-baked plan to tackle the Ink Demon if worse came to worse. Henry would rather it get him than allow the Ink Demon anywhere near his friends.

Henry donned the patched together sweater over the bandages still over his left shoulder. Henry knew that they would all have to leave soon. Henry wasn’t very comfortable with Boris going alone to gather supplies. Especially when Henry had been in recovery and couldn’t go along to help out. 

Even now, the injury still ached.

Henry entered into the main area of the safe house. He hated to break the bad news, but it had to be done.

“Hey guys, we’re going to need to leave soon.” Henry informed the toons. “We’re low on supplies...” Henry looked to Boris, directing his next sentence to the wolf “...but we both know that it really is for the best if we get to the Ink Machine as soon as possible, and shut it down.”

Boris’ ears drooped.

“Sorry, buddy, but we can’t stay here.” Henry felt like an ass for forgetting what the future could bring. “We‘ll do our best to avoid elevators unless absolutely necessary, okay?”

Bendy looked confused as the toon looked up between Henry and Boris.

Henry couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn't have the heart to tell Bendy what could happen to Boris.

What usually happened to Boris.

It still hurt, thinking about what the end result was.

From the toon’s wolfs expression, Boris didn’t seem to be willing to communicate with Bendy about what might happen either.

“...or you could stay here.” Henry suggested. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? If Boris wasn’t caught, he couldn’t be hurt. “I could draw the Ink Demon’s attention away from this place, for awhile. We all know that it is after me from that attack.”

Boris didn’t even hesitate before shaking his head.

It was a firm ‘no’ to Henry’s suggestion.

The toon wolf still looked unhappy, but Boris was apparently determined to accompany Henry, no matter the danger.

“Thanks, buddy. It’s always good to have you along.” Henry told Boris, and he meant it. Having company in this hellhole that didn’t want to kill him was nice. “I’ll see if I can make a difference this time, if we happen to get locked into that fetch quest again.” This time, Henry did not have to make soup for Boris in order to leave.

The toon wolf produced the lever to the door and opened up the door himself. Before leaving, Boris put on a hard hat with a light on top of it. The wolf looked nervous but straightened up, showing that he was ready to leave.

Bendy was oblivious to the worries, and cheerfully hopped through the now open doorway. But once in the hallway, the toon’s body language reflected a skittishness of his surroundings. Or perhaps it was because Bendy realized that they might run into someone.

Like Sammy or the Ink Demon.

Henry was aware that he no longer had any weapon. Henry knew that he would need to be cautious until he had one in his possession again. Henry reminded himself that he definitely had to be careful this time, because his right hand was still tender. Not to mention, his left shoulder was weakened from the injury inflicted by the Ink Demon’s claws. 

The ache that lingered...

The ink stains that had spread from the wounds...

Henry would keep an eye on them. For whatever reason, he had a bad feeling about those injuries, even if he didn’t have any reason why, apart from his unnerving nightmares.

Focus.

Henry needed to focus right now. He wasn’t going to let himself be taken down so easily. He would push on, and protect his friends, while beating the utter shit out of any who dared to try to harm them.

Up ahead, Bendy and Boris came to a halt in front of a darkened corridor.

Henry let out a soft exhale.

Same old, same old.

Henry stepped closer and reached for the light. He had again prevented himself from pointing out the obvious darkness and the need of something to light their way. To Henry’s surprise, Boris picked the light up. After exchanging a quiet look with the wolf, Henry nodded his thanks.

Into the dark, creepy corridor they went.

Henry walked side by side with Boris, as Bendy trailed along nervously behind them. When Henry reached the area where a noise would sound out, Henry again bit off his question. But this time, Henry wouldn’t have been able to finish his words, because of one thing.

One person, actually.

Sammy _fucking_ Lawrence, who appeared from the shadows.

“Ah, shit.” Henry said, as the music director charged toward _him. “_ Already _?!”_

The Bendy mask Sammy wore was whole again, but for a single thin line of ink down the middle. Sammy must have somehow used the ink to mend it back together.

Henry wasn’t sure why he noticed that of all things, because Sammy wordlessly throwing himself at him with his hands outstretched was a much more worrying sight.

Sammy apparently wanted to strange him.

Damn.

The music directors must _really_ be mad about something. Did Sammy happen to find out that Henry hit the Ink Demon with the axe?

“Boris, go on ahead!” Henry grappled with Sammy, not keen on the idea of being throttled. “Get to the door! And take Bendy with you!”

From the look on Bendy’s face, he didn’t want to go, yet at the same time, the toon clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near Sammy.

Boris took Henry at his word. The toon wolf grabbed ahold of one of Bendy’s hands and led them both further down the corridor. 

Henry was plunged into darkness.

Whoops.

Henry had forgotten that Boris had taken the light. Henry struggled to keep Sammy at arm’s length.

Well, damn.

Could Sammy see in the dark? 

Henry didn’t get to contemplate this idea for very long, because suddenly, a chill down his spine.

The darkened corridor seemed to grow even darker, followed by the whispering in the ink.

Henry desperately shoved Sammy away from him, and only succeeded because the music director had become distracted.

“My lord!”

The Ink Demon had come, filling the quiet with a growl.

Henry attempted to run blindly away from where the darkness seemed heavier. His whole body felt like it was being dragged down, but the worst of it came from his injuries, which ached terribly.

Running into a wall was not part of the plan, but neither was being driven to the floor by the ache becoming a sharp, jagged pain.

Henry sucked in a harsh breath and let it out. He couldn’t move, the agony was so great. Just like what happened to him at times in his nightmares.

The growling drew nearer.

The _Ink Demon_ drew nearer.

Henry pressed his right hand to his left shoulder, feeling beneath the sweater. Henry didn’t like how his skin beneath those bandages seemed to be warmer than before. Henry bit his lip in frustration as he failed to make himself get up.

Trapped.

Cornered.

This had gone from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the Ink Demon gets another chapter sooner than I thought. It will be...showing that the Ink Demon is definitely more aware of its surroundings. The encounter will be more terrifying for Henry, because he REALLY didn’t need to SEE the Ink Demon’s eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

The Ink Demon wandered mindlessly through the halls. There was no particular destination it strove to reach, but there was a restlessness of sorts to come across something to rip apart.

No one showed.

The inky being continued along until it suddenly came to an abrupt halt. It had sensed an influx of activity elsewhere. A disruption, that took the creature out of its endless prowl. The Ink Demon cocked its head to the side for a moment, its teeth clacking together in agitation.

Ordinarily, it sensed such things much sooner.

The Ink Demon took only a moment longer before it was able to pinpoint the area that the activity was coming from.

It was the Beacon.

The Beacon had made a reappearance.

The Ink Demon resumed moving, directing its limping walk to be a little bit faster as it headed for the nearest wall. It would not let the Beacon slip away again. As soon as the wall was covered in ink, the Ink Demon stepped through, an eagerness taking hold.

It was a peculiar feeling.

An unfamiliar one but one the Ink Demon found that it welcomed. And the closer it got to the source of the human, the more it could sense what was going on.

The Follower was there, with the Beacon.

The Ink Demon moved itself through the ink faster as it let out a low growl at a realization.

The Follower was attacking the Beacon. Or attempting to do so, as the human was resisting the pathetic attack. The Follower dared to try to take the Beacon from it.   
  
The Ink Demon bared its teeth wider. It would not allow the Follower have the human. Emerging from the ink covered wall in a different area of the studio, the Ink Demon let out a furious shriek at the Follower.

The inky being froze up immediately.

The Ink Demon continued to growl. It would not hesitate to tear the Follower apart if they did not back down.

The Follower almost instantly let go of the Beacon, even as the human shoved away in return.

The Ink Demon kept an eye on the human, even if it spared a brief glance in the Follower’s direction.

“I...I’m sorry, my lord.” The Follower began to cower on the floor, and began to say many more things in too rapid a way for the Ink Demon to even begin to want to try to understand.

The Ink Demon turned its attention to the Beacon.

That almost painful light still emanated from the human, as was usual.

The Ink Demon stepped forward, and found that it had no trouble cornering the Beacon.

That was...odd.

It confused the Ink Demon over how easily it was able to pin the human to the nearby wall.

This was...unappealing.

The Beacon gave in with hardly any fight beneath its clawed right hand.

What interest was there for the Ink Demon if its prey didn’t run in fear from it? If its prey didn’t attempt to fight back like before?

The Ink Demon growled under its breath as it attempted to reason out why the Beacon hadn’t run, or lashed out with an attack, as before.

An unbelievable thought came to mind.

Could the human…not see in the dark? Was the Beacon unable to use his own light to aid his vision?

Well, finding a source of light was no trouble, if that was the problem.

The Ink Demon could sense one further ahead in the darkened corridor. The Ink Demon leaned in close, working its jaw. It longed to tear apart the Beacon that hurt its vision. Destroy the being that had caused it pain in its head from the blunt yet sharp object. Prevent another agonizing kick to its body.

But it didn’t do anything.

Teeth parted, but the Ink Demon refrained from biting. The inky creature moved in even closer to the Beacon, and sniffed him, tousling whatever was on top of the human’s head. As much as the human radiated the distasteful light, the Beacon smelled remarkably...normal.

Whatever that meant.

The Ink Demon distantly heard the Follower still speaking, though in a more frantic manner, but ignored the other being for now.

The Beacon was of more interest.

The Ink Demon held the human tightly by its tattered coverings, and dragged him away from the wall, toward the light in the other room. The Ink Demon ignored the Beacon’s struggling as it limped along. The Ink Demon decided along the way that it wanted a better look at the human before it killed him. The Ink Demon wanted a chase, yes, but first, it would ‘see’ the human for itself, while he couldn’t run away.

There was something bothering the skeletal creature about the Beacon’s appearance.

It wanted to know why that was.

The Ink Demon reached the edge of the corridor where light filtered in, which led to a large room. This spacious room was filled with stuffed images of itself, the Wolf, and the Twisted. The Ink Demon pinned the human to the wall firmly again, to ensure that the Bacon couldn’t run away prematurely. The Ink Demon leaned in close once more, tilting its head to the side just so.

The Beacon looked uncomfortable. One of his hands was tentatively on its own, as though the human were trying to pry it away.

The Ink Demon wasn’t cornered that the Beacon could break its grasp, so it reached up with its left hand. It slowly slid the trailing ink out of its vision to reveal its eyes. The Ink Demon wasn’t sure what to make of the human’s eyes widening in return.

Did the Beacon not think it had eyes?

While the Ink Demon’s face was usually partially covered by ink, that didn’t mean it was blind. The Ink Demon merely found that the ink enhanced its vision in dark places. Oddly enough, the Ink Demon found that it could look at the Beacon with its own eyes and didn’t see that bright light. Instead, the human looked normal without the light enveloping them constantly.

What did this mean?

Should it not allow the ink to continue to cover its vision? Would the Ink Demon be able to better see in the light of the studio this way?

The Ink Demon’s left hand remained up to keep most of the ink out of its vision. Slowly, it then loosened its hold on the Beacon with its other hand. The Ink Demon would test its vision another time. Right now, it was time to give chase. The Ink Demon needed this, for whatever reason, before it felt justified in destroying the Beacon, once it caught up to the human again.

The Beacon didn’t seem to understand why he had been allowed to slip free. He didn’t run. The human could see again, so why?

Why was there no chase yet?

The Ink Demon’s teeth clicked together.

The human...it almost seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Instead, the Beacon regarded the inky creature with an odd expression. 

It was an unfamiliar look, but there was no forthcoming violence like before.

That was...different.

No running, and no violence.

Only a steady stare up at the inky creature’s exposed eyes.

The Ink Demon gripped its right hand in a fist before it relaxed, flicking its claws out idly. It wasn’t sure why it felt...something, when the Beacon looked it in the eyes. It was almost...uncomfortable.

Exposed?

The Ink Demon wasn’t sure what to make of the sensations, so it ignored it in favor of one that was familiar.

Chase.

Catch.

Tear apart.

The Ink Demon wondered if the human needed to hear what it wanted him to do.

Was that what was needed for the chase to begin?

Maybe the Ink Demon could let the Beacon know its intentions with spoken words then. It had never tried before, apart from screaming furiously at anything it came across.

Were simple words more effective?

The Ink Demon’s jaw worked for a moment. There was a haze in its mind that made grasping speech difficult, but it managed. Then, in an intense show of concentration, the Ink Demon latched onto what it wanted to say. Its teeth parted, and the skeletal being forced out a single, chilling word for the very first time.

R̸̨̢͈̙̣̰͎͙͓͚̀̑̚͜͜Ü̸̼̲̭̖̒Ņ̶͕͌̄͗͛̏̉̈́̈́̿̚.̶̢̨̞̇͒͂͐͐̄̔͌̆”̷̣͔͔̩̄͒  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wanted to try out that glitchy text (like many others, I’m sure, who’ve probably used it for batim fics too).
> 
> Also. I’m hoping it’s obvious that the Ink Demon is becoming more self-aware, instead of just mindlessly chasing down and killing those in the studio. As in, its beginning to think and reason more, even if it has trouble figuring out what some of its thoughts mean.


	14. Chapter 14

The fact that the Ink Demon hadn’t killed Henry for his stupidity was the most surprising thing he had experienced in this place in a long while. Stupid meaning stumbling around in the dark until the skeletal being had cornered him and pinned him to a wall with its clawed hand.

Henry had expected pain then, as well. Instead, he had experienced the sensation of the Ink Demon giving him a curious sniff. That had been weird as hell, and yet there Henry was, still breathing and uninjured, his hair being snuffled by a nightmare. 

The weird crawling feeling that had started up in his right palm and left shoulder were more of a distraction than the Ink Demon sniffing him.

Something very weird was going on this loop.

But Henry couldn’t think about why, because he continued to be menaced by the skeletal being. 

Really, why would the Ink Demon even bother bringing Henry closer to a lit area of the studio? It was as if the inky creature somehow knew that Henry could not see in the dark.

But this didn’t make sense.

Why would the Ink Demon bother with Henry being able to see, if all it was going to do was re-pin him to a wall? Henry wondered if this meant the Ink Demon going to kill him now? Then, the creature decided to blow Henry’s mind by brushing ink out of its face with a free hand.

Holy _shit_.

The revelation of all too human-looking eyes on the Ink Demon was terrifying. And the way the creature studied Henry showed that it had with an intelligence that Henry hadn’t anticipated at all. Being literally stared down by the Ink Demon, who _happened to have real eyes,_ was a surreal experience. 

But most unexpected of all, the Ink Demon spoke directly to him, in a grinding, hoarse ’nightmare from the depths of hell’ voice.

Henry had never heard anything resembling words come from the demon, apart from it screaming and growling at him.

This brought a lot of questions to mind, and yet there was no time to focus on any of them.

Henry’s legs locked up even as he sagged against the wall. The Ink Demon’s right hand had just let go of him.

It had just told him to _run_.

Damn.

Was _that_ why the Ink Demon hadn’t killed him. The skeletal being wanted to chase him down first?

Henry very carefully scooted along the wall in the direction of the light, as he kept a careful eye on the now softly growling demon. Those creepy eyes tracked Henry, and there was something like satisfaction within them.

It was almost as if the Ink Demon was pleased with itself for communicating its wants. 

Henrt knew for certain that any nightmares he had from then on would be worse with that sight burned into his mind. If he could even manage to find a time and place to catch more sleep in this hellish place.

The Ink Demon let out a low, almost impatient sounding hiss.

Henry didn't hesitate. He didn’t want to look at those eyes any longer.

A parting shot, however, was in order.

“Bad demon.” Henry repeater from earlier, as he dared to slap the Ink Demon’s right hand. “No speaking without proper warning.”

The Ink Demon’s jaw opened before it snapped sharp teeth back into flat ones a scant inch away from Henry’s face.

“Oh yeah?” Henry taunted. “How about this?” The inky being reeled back as Henry introduced it to another crotch shot. “Yeah, don’t like that, do you?”

Henry didn’t stick around for the result. He just booked it as quickly as he could to reach the nearest little miracle station. Henry was grateful that it was there, just like always.

The Ink Demon let out a garbled shriek of fury moments later, as rapid limping footsteps signaled it giving chase.

Henry wrenched the station open and shut himself inside, falling back from the door, as if expecting the Ink Demon to forcefully open it.

Or break it into pieces.

Neither Bendy nor Boris were inside.

Henry was all alone.

The Ink Demon spat out something that suspiciously sounded like ‘hurt‘ as it drew closer.

Henry moves further back from the door. He hoped that the little devil would stay out of the Ink Demon’s path. And Boris too, if the toon wolf happened to actually back track this time to come look for him. Henry took a few cautionary steps back as inky tendrils of darkness drew nearer on the walls.

The Ink Demon suddenly appeared in front of the slot in the box with a pissed off growl.

Henry pressed himself firmly against the back of the the box as the Ink Demon leaned over to presumably peer inside. Its eyes were still uncovered but it looked as though it made clear eye contact with him.

The Ink Demon knew Henry was inside. 

It had to have known.

A tapping of claws against the wood of the station sounded out amongst the whispers in the ink. The demon’s teeth rattled in a rather unsettling way as it stared.

Henry began to second guess if the Ink Demon could actually see him, the longer nothing happened. The claws continued to scrape against the wood lightly, as if trying to coax him out. Henry didn’t know what to think of that, so he waited. Henry didn’t relax until he saw the Ink Demon vanish from immediate view, taking with it the darkness that always followed it. Henry lingered in the little miracle station awhile longer, until the tense feeling in the air waned. 

Was he safe?

Henry let out a very shaky breath. His two wounds inflicted by the Ink Demon ached terribly now that the creature was gone. Henry tried not to think about why that was and focused on the idea that Ink Demon had seen him. Because if it had...why did the inky being not just open up the little miracle station door?

 _Run_.

Henry felt an unexplained chill as realization set in.

The Ink Demon wanted to chase him. Not just chase Henry to the little miricale station. The Ink Demon wanted to hunt Henry down in the studio until it cornered him again. Stalk him, until there was nowhere left to hide.

Henry felt a little ill at the thought.

Oh boy.

This wasn’t good at all.

As if Henry didn’t already have enough things to worry about. Like his more than likely infected injuries acting oddly, not to mention keeping his two toon friends safe...

A timid knock sounded out on the door.

Henry cautiously opened the door, only to have Bendy leap into his arms and frantically close the door again. Henry fell backward onto his ass from the unexpected weight. Henry sucked in a breath over the way the Ink Demon slammed into the door with its whole body. Henry held the trembling toon close. Henry tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes at the growling demon.

There had been no warning.

It had just appeared.

There had not even been the telltale sign of the swirls of darkness that accompanied the Ink Demon’s arrival, nor any whispers or snarls.

Only silence.

That was...concerning.

Henry held Bendy closer to him, patting the toon’s back soothingly, as if to reassure the little devil and in turn, himself. But Henry was anything but reassured.

Dread.

Henry felt only dread.

The Ink Demon appeared to not only want to go after him, but Bendy as well. The inky being hissed into the slot in the door, as its claws dragged harder against the wood, jostling the station.

Bendy twitched.

The uncanny, too close for comfort smile parted, making the Ink Demons appearance even more sinister, as its left hand exposed its hidden eyes again, which blinked and then zeroed in on Henry.

So it _could_ see him.

Bendy hastily pressed his face into Henry’s ruined sweater, trembling.

The Ink Demon issued out a rough hiss before it spoke. its voice was stilted, as if working around unfamiliar words.

Ḑ̵͇̲̌͌̄́̌̓́̚̚o̸̢̙̜͙̲͓͉͕̗̍̓̈̂́̒͠n̴͓͈͕̞͍͙̤̟̔’̵̛̤͖͓͖̜̄̉̄̀̂̈͛̒ţ̵̛̯̠̰͎̱̼̖͔͛̔͌̏͂̕ ̵̹̼̼̈́͒͒̽͐̃͒͝͝h̴̄͌ͅĭ̶͙̿͌̀͌̈́͐d̵̼̙̦̔̆͆̓͂͝e̷̡̯͎̤̊̒̓̽͜͝͝  
  


  
Henry pressed his back firmly to the back of the box.

Ṟ̴̢̦̼͍͕̗̘̙̳̟̥͙͇̱̪̞͈͉̐̎̽̽̈́̆͋̇̽̑͜ ̴̧̧͖̰̣͙̞̺̼̤̙̹͕͍̹̦͍͈̤̘̭̈̀͒̈͋̆̒̈̽̓̔̓̀̆̿̚̚͝U̷͇̠̜̝͐̏͛͛́͗̐̇̒̂͑̓̆̾̿͑̐̚̚͝ ̸̢̧̨̟̝̞̜̟̠̙͖̰̅̌̒̆̇̽͐̀̍͆̇͊͗͛̓͠͝N̷̢̗̯̜̬̝̙̬͕̭͓̬͕͐̒̋̃  
  


  
The Ink Demon’s teeth snapped back together into show its usual eerie grin. Coupled with the eyes watching, it made for an unsettling sight. Then, the skeletal creature stepped away from the little miracle station. The Ink Demon limped away and vanished into an inky wall a short distance away, after casting a final glance back.

Then, it was gone.

Henry didn’t leave that miracle station for a very long time. He scooted backwards to one corner and curled up, Bendy still held in his arms.

The toon snuggled closer, seeking comfort as Bendy hugged Henry tightly in return, shivering now and again.

This was very bad, and Henry didn’t have another weapon for protection yet, either. And Henry had so many questions.

Since when did the Ink Demon…have an awareness of anything but death to those who were unfortunate enough to cross its path?

To make a shitty situation even shittier, a horribly familiar voice rang out in a sing-song voice.

“Sheep sheep sheep, wherever did you go?” Sammy continued to sing like the psycho he was. “My lord seems to be impatient to see you. So much so that it almost looked like He might have killed me for interfering...but that can’t be. He wouldn’t hurt His prophet.”

Joy.

So in addition to avoiding the Ink Demon and its increased awareness, Henry now had to also deal with Sammy, who was currently too close for comfort. 

Did little miracle stations work on him?

Hopefully.

Bendy issued out an odd whimpering noise and curled tightly against Henry, his face still pressed to Henry’s chest.

Henry’s mind raced even as he made attempts to comfort the toon.

Now what?

This was so much worse than before. But after the scare he’d received from the Ink Demon, Henry found that he couldn’t help but fall into an uneasy doze.

Everything would turn out all right.

Henry just had to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture the Ink Demon’s eyes as kinda like the ones in that sfm heavy metal remix of can’t be erased. But in this fic, the Ink Demon has more slitted pupils-like a cat (which are like a thin line while looking at Henry in this chapter, because the Ink Demon isn’t used to looking in the light with its own eyes)
> 
> Also...Bendy pov next chapter. ^^ Poor Henry needs a very long nap.


	15. Chapter 15

This place was eerily quiet, apart from the thrum of machines.

Bendy didn’t like it.

It was...scary.

Bendy shifted in the loose hug Henry had him in, and stared worriedly up at the human.

Henry was quiet, his head sagged forward as the rest of his body rested against the back of the box they were in. The human had fallen asleep again.

Was he still hurting?

Henry had slept for a long time in the safe house...

Bendy craned his head up, considering waking Henry, but the little devil overbalanced. With a mute gasp, Bendy fell to the floor of the box and splayed out in a comic sprawl, his head askew and away from his body.

Whoops.

Good thing he couldn’t lose his head so easily.

Bendy rolled over and sat up, briefly disoriented as his head settled back over his non-existent neck. 

That felt...much worse than when it happened on the cartoons.

Bendy decided to let it happen as little as possible from then on.

But back to Henry...

Bendy stood up and inched closer, gloved hands resting on Henry’s. Bendy’s friend looked so exhausted, even while fast asleep.

Come to think of it...

Bendy felt pretty tired as well, which was odd, because he was a toon. Most toons didn’t tire like this, right? Was it because Bendy wasn’t in a cartoon and was in the real world with Henry?

Maybe.

None of this really made sense. It didn’t seem...real.

Bendy nervously looked up at the slot in the box. That scary monster wasn’t going to come back, was it? That inky creature that looked like a horrific version of Bendy.

It had a bow, even if it was lopsided. It had the eternal grin, but seemed more menacing. The creature even had a single white glove, while its other hand had fingers topped with claws.

That inky being scared Bendy.

The Ink Demon.

Bendy blinked pie-cut eyes. Where had that thought come from? Bendy stared down uneasily at his hands.

Ink Demon....

That seemed right, considering the skeletal form that looked like him appeared to be covered in dripping ink.

And those eyes.

Bendy shivered.

It was scary, to think that someone might see Bendy in that other demon. Bendy wasn’t anything like the Ink Demon. Bendy was the dancing demon, the little devil darling. He would never hurt anyone like the Ink Demon had harmed his friend.

Bendy stared at his gloved hands again. He decided that he would never take them off. Bendy knew what lay beneath them, and he didn’t want to have another visual reminder that there were...similarities, between himself and the Ink Demon.

It was an unhappy thought.

Bendy looked away from the slot in the box, and back to Henry.

His friend.

Bendy felt the overwhelming need to help Henry when he first met him, and that hadn’t changed. Bendy didn’t even question wanting to get into contact with the human right away, even if it had been a little nerve wracking at first to introduce himself. Henry was the first being Bendy had laid eyes on inside of this place…this animation studio.

Before that...

Before that, Bendy wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been doing. One moment, there was nothing but endless darkness. Then, there had been a voice. One Bendy was very familiar with. It was the voice that Bendy had heard in that darkness now and again. But that last time...the voice...had been so desperate to see Bendy outside of his cartoons.

The desperation had caused Bendy to try to reach that voice. 

That voice needed to be reassured that he was there. That the little devil was really there and could hear the voice. That Bendy had just been stuck in the darkness. 

It had been a lonely existence. 

Bendy had been alone for so long, he almost forgot what the light looked like.

And then, all at once, Bendy was out of the darkness, and in the quiet of the studio. Bendy didn’t understand why or how he was there, until he saw Henry.

Bendy _knew_ him.

Bendy had known that it had been Henry’s voice that he had heard after so much silence. That voice had brought Bendy off the reels, and into the real world, from Henry’s single minded belief that Bendy truly existed.

And here they both were now, hiding out in a box from the Ink Demon.

Bendy snuggled close to Henry’s side, and looked up at the slot in the box again. This whole place was so new, but much more dangerous than what Bendy knew.

There was so much to explore, though!

Bendy had even found a large stuffed animal that resembled Boris!

Had Henry seen it yet?

Bendy could show him and-

Bendy’s grin vanished into a thin line as he looked the sleeping human over. Bendy moved onto Henry’s lap and held onto his sweater, worry overtaking excitement. 

His creator…

Henry didn’t know. He didn’t know that Bendy knew Henry had created him. 

Created the others. 

But that didn’t really matter right now. 

Bendy knew, and that was enough. He was certain that there had to have been a reason for Henry to be gone from Bendy’s life for so long.

Was that right?

His life...his existence, maybe?

Bendy was positive there was a blank expanse between being a cartoon and being in this studio. Bendy was worried, and might have berated himself over avoiding thinking about something in favor of making sure Henry was okay.

Bendy _couldn’t_ think about it.

Not right now.

Bendy gave his head a little shake, like he had seen Henry do earlier. It seemed to help center the little devil’s thoughts, to keep them from spiraling. Bendy reached up to check on Henry’s bandaged left shoulder.

Bad thoughts began to intrude.

There was...there was something _wrong_ with the injuries that the toon couldn’t quite place.

Bendy dropped his hand, feeling worn out all of a sudden. Bendy closed his eyes, and sagged against Henry. Bendy felt safe, for now, in this box. He would wait for the human to wake up. 

Henry came first before exploring the studio.

”Sheep, sheep? Are you there? Come out, come out wherever you are...” A distant voice echoed.

Bendy curled up against Henry. The little devil could still hear the one Henry called Sammy outside of the box. 

Sammy was, to use Henry’s words, a ‘nut job.’

Bendy didn’t know what this meant, but he guessed that it had to do with the mutters that he could hear from Sammy right now, if he listened carefully. 

Random praises to the Ink Demon and such things like that.

It made Bendy deeply uncomfortable to think that Sammy thought of him as some higher being. That Sammy believed he was the same as the Ink Demon, but in ‘toon’ form. Bendy wanted to shake his head and deny it, but felt it was a lost cause trying to mutely explain that he wasn’t like the Ink Demon at all.

He didn’t want people hurt like Henry had been by that creature.

Bendy pressed his face to Henry’s sweater when Sammy’s voice got closer. The little devil shivered involuntary over the thought of the door being opened, and being found first by Sammy, and then, the Ink Demon.

Nothing happened.

Bendy still looked at the door anxiously. He hoped that the Boris he’d met and who helped open the door was all right. Bendy hoped that there weren’t too many more scary people and toons in this place. More than that, Bendy hoped that he was mistaken about Henry’s bandaged limbs. 

But still...that off-putting sensation of something not quite right. 

When Bendy got too close to the injuries...it felt like...

It felt like the Ink Demon’s aura. Faint, but there nonetheless.

Bendy clung to Henry’s sweater, desperately hoping to be wrong, as the toon waited for his friend to regain consciousness.


	16. Chapter 16

_The ink spreads._

_The Ink Machine endures through all hardships those in the studio face._

_Henry’s right arm is covered in ink. It changes him, but he does not see how._

_The ink is spreads._

_The darkness takes hold._

_Henry’s left shoulder burns._

_Aches._

_Henry’s body is all_ _sharp, jagged pain._

_The ink spreads, and then-_

...

...

...

Henry woke with a sharp exhale, his body jerking fully into wakefulness after that unsettling dream.

Or was it a nightmare?

Henry’s hand and shoulder ached, so he checked on them. Nothing seemed out of place...nothing apart from the ink stains on his skin. It appeared as though they had spiraled out another inch or so from beneath the bandages. When Henry was satisfied that he wasn’t transforming into a monster, he looked up to find himself still in the little miracle station. Luckily, Bendy was still there, which meant the toon had been safe while Henry had been conked out. 

Bendy stood a short distance away, as if giving Henry space. The toon wore a worried little frown, until he saw Henry was awake. Bendy’s expression changed in an instant. The little devil offered an encouraging, if oddly insincere, smile.

“Sorry for falling asleep like that.” Henry was worried about Bendy, as it was clear that the toon didn’t feel encouraged in the least bit, but hoped Henry would be. It made Henry feel bad that Bendy wasn’t as chipper as before.

Bendy moved closer and reached out to pat near Henry’s bandaged shoulder, a questioning look passing the toon’s face.

“Oh, I feel all right. That little impromptu nap seems to have helped.”

Bendy looked unconvinced but he stepped back as his grin widened to hide the toon’s concern.

Henry didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept quiet as he stood up and stretched out any kinks he’d received while asleep. Then, Henry moved over to the slot in the station, knees popping in protest as he crouched a little in case he needed to back away. Henry braced himself and then peered out.

There was no sign of the Ink Demon, or Sammy.

It was quiet.

Good.

Henry carefully opened the door, and cautiously exited the little miracle station, Bendy close behind him. Henry was still wary, as if expecting the Ink Demon to show up out of nowhere.

It didn’t.

“Time to move on.” Henry said softly, mainly to himself. He couldn’t help but smile at the way Bendy skipped over to the large Boris plush, the toon’s good mood seemingly restored. “That’s a pretty big one, huh?” Henry actually laughed when Bendy came back over to him, grabbed his hand, and eagerly tugged Henry over to the plush to show him.

“The studio seems to have made a lot of them, but not as many as large as this guy.” Henry reached out to pat the large Boris plush for emphasis.

Bendy flashed a cheerful grin, patting the Boris plush before he continued on. The toon hopped up the stairs, head swiveling to and fro as Bendy took in everything around him.

Henry, not so much.

After having passed through this place so many times, Henry had already seen everything there was to see of the toy factory. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy watching Bendy he happy with the sights. Henry even let out another chuckle when he entered the next room and caught the way Bendy bounded energetically over to one of the walls of toys.

The joy the toon was currently feeling made it worth going through with the quick puzzle to press on.

Henry methodically unjammed the conveyor belts, before he went to flip the switch outside the room. Henry returned before the toon noticed his absence.

Bendy had taken down one of each plush, and had positioned them next to one another on the floor.

The Bendy plush was in the middle, with Boris and Alice Angel on either side.

While the toon was admiring the plushies, Henry quickly opened up the path to the blocked door with another lever in the room. The sound of the shelves moving out of the way with a jerking motion didn’t even startle Bendy part from one quick look.

“Ready to go?” Henry questioned the toon. Henry himself wasn’t looking forward to what came next.

Bendy looked down at the plushies. With a determined look, the toon picked them up. Bendy promptly began to drop them as he attempted to juggle them in his arms, without too much success.

Henry scrounged around in the room and produced some fabric hidden away in a corner. He fashioned a little backpack, and went over to Bendy. Henry put the plushies in the bag and then slipped the uneven backpack straps over Bendy’s shoulders.

Bendy beamed as he twirled around happily, head turning completely backwards in order to examine the roughly put-together backpack. The toon’s head snapped back forward, the grin incredibly happy as Bendy showed his appreciation by jumping up to give Henry a great big hug. 

Henry caught the toon and gave him a quick hug in return, glad that Bendy was still so carefree and happy. Henry hoped the happiness would last, even as things in the studio inevitably went south. Henry set the toon down and watched the way Bendy bounced on his feet alongside him as they went through the now unblocked door. 

Joy.

Back _here_ again.

Bendy perked up at the sound of Alice Angel singing over the intercom, and on the screens. Bendy moved along with the song, wearing a happy little smile.

“I need you to go over by those barrels, ok? on the left there? A path will open up after the lights go off and then on again. Stay there for me?” Henry moved a little closer to Bendy, and motioned to the blocked off path. “Make sure to stay away from the recording booth.”

Bendy tilted his head at the explanation, taking it in, but made no indication that he questioned Henry about it. The toon danced over to the door, humming a little ditty as he went.

Henry ignored his own advice about the recording booth as he stamped up to the window.

The room was still dark apart from the screens.

Henry ignored it, left hand clenching into a fist. This was the same song and dance over and over again, and honestly, he was damn tired of it all. Henry knew who would be there when the song came to an end. He knew which version of Alice Angel would appear. Henry didn’t even wait for the song to end, as he usually did. He just yelled at the yet to be broken glass window instead. 

“You’re not her, Susie, no matter how hard you try to be!” Henry snapped in a harsh tone. “You will never be anything more than a twisted monster here!” Henry really should have expected the furious shriek that came from the other side of the glass. 

Alice appearing in the dim light to shatter all of the glass in her fury instead of only a small portion of it was not expected. Another incoherent feminine scream rang out, before everything went completely dark in the room.

Well, well. It seemed as though Henry had pissed off an ‘angel.’

Not that he cared anymore.

His lack of response should have been concerning, but really...

Alice was too far gone to be reasoned with, no matter how many times Henry tried in past loops to reason with her.

As soon as the lights came back on, Alice was standing there in the room with an unhinged expression. She was shaking with barely suppressed rage, her ruined face twisting up into a horrid snarl.

Henry took one look and decided not to tempt fate any more that day. Had he a weapon...well...that would have been a different story. Since Henry had no way to defend himself or the toon with him at present, Henry seized Bendy’s gloved hand and ran through the hall to the left that he always took. 

Alice likely would have followed had Sammy not shown up, hacking the door down to enter the room like the madman he was.

”You! You are the one who dares to insult my lord’s image!” Sammy proclaimed loudly at Alice as he crossed the room and swung his axe.

“That demon will never touch me!” Alice stepped out of range, her anger switching targets to one who was closer to her. 

”My lord would not sully His hands by touching a such a twisted, ugly angel as yourself!” Sammy snapped back, charging forward again with his axe.

”I am beautiful!” Alice shrieked, in what sounded like denial of the other’s words. She threw herself at Sammy, regardless of the axe. “The demon will not send me back to the screaming well of voices!”

Sammy reeled backward as Alice tackled him, throwing him off balance. Both toppled to the floor, inky hands grappling for the axe as the two beings hurled insults at one another. 

”I’ll tear out your heart!”

”My lord will punish all nonbelievers, including angels!”

”I will be beautiful with every heart collected. One step closer, with all that I tear apart. Even a fool that worships that _thing_ will bring me closer to perfection!”

”You dare insult our savior and call Him a thing?!”

As much as Henry wanted to stay and watch the show that was unfolding, he felt it best to continue on with the distraction he had been provided with. 

Bendy looked frightened over Alice’s appearance, but did nothing more than cling to Henry’s hand as they both ran down the now-clear hallway. Once a safe distance away, Henry and Bendy slowed.

They had reached the crossroads.

Or what Henry liked to think of as a crossroads.

The sign that stood between either open doorway. One inky scrawl indicated ‘demon,’ that pointed to the left. The other pointed to the right, the writing indicating ‘angel.’

Henry didn’t think about which path to take this time around. Henry instead found himself preoccupied with consoling a very distraught toon.

Apprently, Alice’s face had been so terrifying that it had caused tears to steam from those pie-cut eyes.

”It’s okay. Well...it’ll be okay.” Henry muttered as he hugged Bendy’s shaking form to him. Henry glanced back the way they had come. “If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you with certainty... _that_ was _not_ the real Alice Angel.”

Bendy just sobbed harder as he pressed his face against Henry’s chest, seeking comfort.

Henry hugged Bendy more snuggly to him.

So much for keeping the toon happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am realizing more and more just how long this fic is going to be (more than originally intended, anyway) But it makes me happy to see the interest in this fic in the short time it’s been up. I feel a little better about the length this fic could be, knowing that people are enjoying it. But because it will be longer than anticipated, I’ll be able to expand on some things that were going to only be glossed over before.


	17. Chapter 17

It took some time, but Henry was able to cheer Bendy up at least a little bit. The crying had slowed down at any rate, especially when Henry found a bottle of ink and started to doodle on one of the walls.

That trademark grin slowly returned at the sight of some of the sillier doodles Henry made. It was good to see that smile, even if the toon obviously wasn’t as cheerful as before.

”As much as I want to keep drawing, I think we need to get going.” Henry wiped his ink covered fingers on his pants, not really caring about the stains that were left behind. “I don’t know whether they will come after us or not...” Henry fell silent abruptly, a trickle of dread surfacing.

The swirling, inky darkness that accompanied the Ink Demon’s presence had begun to cross the walls.

Henry pressed his aching right hand to his opposite, equally aching shoulder. Both of the near-healed wounds twinged again.

No.

Not now.

”Already?” Henry muttered. He could tell that Bendy realized what was happening, from the quivering of the toon’s body, and the worried line his grin had become. Henry hastily scooped Bendy up and then set him down inside of the Angel path, sending the toon stumbling along as Bendy regained his footing. “Keep going forward! You’ll eventually meet up with Boris.” Henry cast a quick look to the wall. It was getting darker. “I’ll catch up as soon as I can.” 

Bendy clearly wanted to stay put to wait for Henry to join him, but the toon fell backward in surprise as the door suddenly slammed down.

Wait. 

Shouldn’t the demon path have closed instead?

What was going on?

The Ink Demon emerged from the darkened hall, and with a screech, lunged forward eagerly.

Henry ducked beneath the swipe of that clawed hand. Henry ran toward the open path of the demon, with said skeletal demon chasing him.

Shit.

Damnit.

Henry couldn’t move through the flooded room nearly as quickly as the Ink Demon was able to. But the silver lining was that the creature’s eyes were obscured once more by ink, and it was not talking.

It was, however, certainly trying its darndest to catch him.

Henry didn’t look back as he sloshed through the ink. He needed to catch up with Bendy, and make sure the toon was able to meet up with Boris.

The Ink Demon snarled.

It seemed that Henry wouldn’t get to where he wanted to be easily. Henry reached out and grabbed the cassette player, hefting it before throwing the object at the inky being pursing him.

The creature hissed and batted the offending item away.

Henry looked around before he seized a nearby chair. Henry was able to make contact with the piece of furniture as the Ink Demon came close.

The chair made a rather satisfying wooden crack against the side of the Ink Demon’s head as it shattered into pieces.

Henry had let go of the broken chair and followed up with a swing of his fist, adrenaline telling him to keep going. Henry belatedly realized that he would be hitting the creature with his bandaged right hand.

The Ink Demon didn’t seem overly bothered by this, as its head jerked out of the way as its maw opened. As Henry’s arm went by, the Ink Demon caught the offending limb in its mouth from Henry’s wrist to his elbow.

Henry let out a strangled cry as the creature snapped its teeth down with a growl. Henry bit the inside of his cheek hard as the Ink Demon twisted its head to the side and let go to throw Henry against the nearest wall.

The letting go of the arm was the important part.

Henry sucked in a harsh, pained breath as he hit the wall. Henry struggled upright in the ink beneath him, before he sagged backward against the wall. Henry clutched his right arm tight to his chest, his left hand pressing against the worst of the new injury. Despite the Ink Demon’s blunt teeth, there was torn skin all the way along his forearm. Thinking about the sharp teeth it could have been...

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Why had Henry thought it had been a good idea to punch the Ink Demon again?

The Ink Demon stalked forward, teeth chattering together as it blocked Henry’s way. Instead of attacking, however, it lowered itself into a crouch. The Ink Demon’s head tilted to one side before it leaned forward, a tongue lolling out between flat teeth to lap up the blood from Henry’s fresh wound. The clawed hand wrapped around Henry’s fingers to hold the limb in place.

That was creepy as hell.

“Stop that.” Henry scolded the Ink Demon, wincing as the tongue continued to aggravate his new injury. Henry risked his left hand by placing it on the Ink Demon’s nearest horn. The fact that he could reach the top of the inky creature’s head meant it was much too close. The horn was slick with ink, but Henry ignored this as he gave the horn a firm shove. “Back off. Hurts.”

The Ink Demon let out a low snarl, though it sounded less angry than before.

Maybe...it could be distracted?

Henry dubiously let go of the horn before he gave it a cautious pat, relieved when that creepy tongue stopped licking his bleeding skin.

The Ink Demon seemed perplexed by the touch, and let go of Henry’s arm.

With his now freed, if wounded, right arm, Henry pet the Ink Demon’s other horn, both horns twitching. To Henry’s surprise, the creature slowly sagged to the floor the rest of the way to sit on its bony rump in the ink. The Ink Demon leaned into Henry’s touch with what was unmistakably a purr.

A grating, horror-fueled purr, but a purr all the same.

What in the world?

The Ink Demon was _purring_ , its narrow chest practically vibrating with the effort of producing the sound.

This...was not at all what Henry expected to happen. But now he was stuck petting a creature that had torn him apart many times in past loops. It was odd to see it so...calm, as if the Ink Demon enjoyed its horns being pet. Henry started to move his hands away, only to freeze as the gloved hand seized both his wrists and directed them back to the demon’s head.

There was a brief growl before the rumbling resumed as the Ink Demon let go of Henry’s hands.

Well then...

Now what?

Henry tentatively pat the Ink Demon between its horns.

The thrumming increased.

This was so bizarre.

Henry wasn’t sure when he would have the chance to get away, but luckily, someone intervened and saved him the trouble of figuring it out himself.

”How dare you so casually touch my lord like that?!”

Henry was never more grateful to hear Sammy’s voice than he was in that moment. And as an added bonus, Alice’s voice wasn’t too far behind, full of dark menace.

”The Ink Demon!” An exasperated sigh, and then the sound of Alice walking away. “It seems we will have to delay our...date.”

Henry was _not_ going to go on a fetch-quest extravaganza if he could avoid it. But with how he’d introduced himself to Alice earlier, he doubted she’d be interested in toying with him this time around.

The Ink Demon didn’t take too kindly to the interruption. It moved away from Henry’s hands in a reluctant sort of way, before it turned its head and spat a furious shriek at both Sammy, who lingered, and at the retreating Alice.

Henry didn’t waste time, nor did he wait to see what happened. Leaving the Ink Demon on the floor snarling away, Henry forced himself to his feet and ran. Henry got the rest of the way through the ink-flooded room unhindered. Damn, his arm stung and throbbed something terrible. Henry ran a distance short away, and reached out to shove a door open. He closed it by ramming backward into it. Henry let out a loud sigh, even as he grimaced after accidentally jostling his new injury.

Ow.

Why was he...so heavy-feeling all of a sudden?

Henry made it a few wobbling steps away from the door, before he collapsed to the ground, the pain getting to him as the adrenaline from before wore off.

Whoops.

That was...that sure was a lot of blood.

Henry heard footsteps and with a weary tilt of his head, looked up. He noted that he happened to have fallen down right in front of a worried Boris and a panicking Bendy.

”Did you know...that the Ink Demon can purr?” Henry asked his friends dazedly before passing out with a still-bleeding arm.

Falling unconscious so often _couldn’t_ be good for Henry’s health, nor was being the chew toy for the Ink Demon, who _still_ hadn’t killed Henry yet.

The studio made no sense this loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was easier to get written out and edited than the previous chapter (so that’s why it is up so soon).
> 
> I have no reason for the purring thing other than I just wanted the inky skeletal murder machine to purr.
> 
> Btw, Sammy is jealous. Because how dare Henry so casually pet the Ink Demon, after everything Sammy did for it as prophet.


	18. Chapter 18

The Ink Demon growled under its breath in displeasure.

The Beacon was gone, as was the Twisted.

The Ink Demon had no qualms with the Twisted so long as she stayed out of its way. As for the Beacon, the Ink Demon would would go after him, but first, it wanted to make sense of what had happened. It was quiet again, which allowed the creature allowed its thoughts to focus on the way the Beacon had put his hands on its horns earlier.

What a confusing touch that had been.

The Ink Demon had never experienced such a sensation before. Nothing usually dared to get so close, and never to touch it. The inky creature tended to destroy anything foolish enough to get in its way. But that touch...the Ink Demon was not sure what to do about it.

The Beacon’s actions toward it before had been violent in nature, and had continued to be so right up until the human put a hand on its horn.

The Ink Demon normally would have snapped at the offending limb. But at the touch, it had had the sudden desire to let the soft petting continue, instead of killing the human while it had the chance.

How very...interesting, that.

Why had it allowed the touch?

The Ink Demon couldn’t focus on its own thoughts for very long. Soon enough, it became aware that it was not as alone as it believed itself to be. The Ink Demon noticed that the Follower was still nearby, but was keeping a healthy distance away. Considering that the Ink Demon had snarled at the Follower the last time, and just a little while ago, it was a smart move.

But why did he stay?

Why did the Follower never run from it?

The Ink Demon turned its head to focus on the Follower, and saw that he had frozen in place.

No running, however.

Just a healthy dose of fear and hope.

The Ink Demon let its confusing thoughts resume, and this time, those thoughts revolved around the Follower. The skeletal being rose up out of the ink flooded floor it had been seated in.

Still, the Follower did not run, and made no motion apart from a nervous twitch.

The Ink Demon headed over to the other being with slow, measured steps, taking care for whatever reason to not limp. Its horns quivered faintly as the spines running down its back flicked down.

The Follower finally moved, cautiously stepping back and remaining close to the wall. He seemed to want to keep a respectful distance from the Ink Demon.

“M-my lord...did you...do you mean t-to go after the a-angel?”

The speech was broken up, as if the Follower was having trouble bringing himself to speak.

The Ink Demon loomed over the other inky being, and decided then and there to uncover its eyes. The Ink Demon wanted to take a proper look at the Follower. If the Beacon wasn’t so bright when the Ink Demon uncovered its eyes, then what did that mean for the Follower? The Ink Demon used its right hand to brush the ink out of its vision.

There was a surprised intake of air from the Follower.

The Ink Demon couldn’t figure out why there was surprise, so it just let its revealed eyes look the Follower over. He was less distorted in appearance without the ink in its eyes. The mask the Follower wore looked like it had been broken but put back together by ink that had come from the machine. The mask was of the Ink Demon, or rather, the toon version of it. The mask looked like the Other, but the Ink Demon wasn’t overly offended by it.

Whatever that meant.

“M-my lord, um...you are getting very c-close...I...I can leave if I a-am in your way?”

The Ink Demon ignored the words as it inspected the Follower. It leaned over to sniff the other being, while at the same time, kept a careful watch, to see how its actions were received.

The way the Follower reacted was...odd, to say the least.

”Oh! I...I didn’t realize you would...get so close like this. I-I’m not worthy of such attention.” The Follower’s words didn’t match his actions. He was obviously overly exited, as if the Ink Demon getting so close to him was the most amazing thing to happen in his entire life.

The Ink Demon snapped its teeth together irritably, the excitement interfering with its examination.

The Follower mercifully shut up. He had even slid down to the floor, where he pressed his back against the wall, nervous once again.

The Ink Demon let out a satisfied huff. It could sense no violent intent toward it from the Follower, unlike the Beacon, who, apart from when the human had stroked its horns, had been violent toward it.

The Follower begun to babble nonsense again, most of which the Ink Demon could not make sense of it.

The Ink Demon’s horns twitched as a question came to it through all its other muddling thoughts.

Maybe the Follower would touch its horns? 

And if the Ink Demon allowed this...then perhaps it needed a more...definitive way to separate this inky being from others similar to him.

The Many Lost.

The Ink Demon settled on a word, when it recalled that had means to communicate aloud without snarls or growls. The Ink Demon wasn’t entirely certain of the meaning of the word it had chosen, but there was a sense that it would get the results it wanted.

The Follower was clearly rendered speechless when the Ink Demon spoke, as evidenced by his complete stillness.

“̷̪̞̪͉͖̭̹͍͖̥͑̿̀̅N̵̡͈̠͔̗̠̙̫̭͐̑͋̒̌̓̑̂̌̇̔̒̐͂̊̕͝͝ā̴̧̻̞̖̥͉͚̞͖̺̺̯͓͚̲͖͚͙̟͆̊͋̅̏̉͆͘m̸̡̧̡͉̙͓̻͍̼̩͔͇̻̟͕̗̥̭̠̏̓̃͋̿̀́̇̏̇̕͝e̶̢̢̮̲̥͔͖͇͎̣͉͕͇͖̜͌͑̓̾̓͜͝ͅ?̵̛̥̦̀̍͊̎͑͆͘͝”̷̨̨̩̱̻͈̣̻̭̮̹̬͖̟̮̙̹̃̾̀̾̀͋̀͋̋  
  


“My...name?” The Follower fidgeted his inky hands together before managing to continue on. “S-s-s-Sammy. My name is Sammy.” The Follower sounded both thrilled and frightened at the same time.

The Ink Demon considered the ‘name’ for a moment, taking time to change in its mind ‘the Follower’ to ‘Follower Sammy’. The Ink Demon’s teeth chattered together restlessly as it attempted to separate those two words further, but couldn’t.

For now, anyway.

It was a start.

The Ink Demon shook itself out of working through words and their meanings, and chose to focus on what it wanted then and there. The Ink Demon lowered itself to the floor and then butted its head into Follower Sammy’s chest. The Ink Demon let out a huff of a growl, its horns twitching a little. It heard Follower Sammy’s words tumble out one after another. The Ink Demon couldn’t quite make sense of these rapid words, like earlier.

Was Follower Sammy overwhelmed? He was saying something along the lines of not being worthy, yet at the same time, his hands were clearly wanting to move up.

The Ink Demon impatiently grabbed one of Follower Sammy’s hands and put the hand up on one of its horns. The Ink Demon let go and thrummed, pleased, when the other being tentatively started to pet the horn. The Ink Demon turned its head, satisfied when Sammy Follower’s other hand reached up to touch its other horn. The Ink Demon’s rumbling increased.

The sensation was a pleasant one.

The Ink Demon felt much calmer than it usually did. But as nice as this was, the Ink Demon knew that it couldn’t linger for long. It had to go after the Beacon, and the Other. The Wolf had to be with them. The Twisted had returned to her domain, so she was not of a concern for the time being.

Follower Sammy was talking to it again.

The Ink Demon let its horns be pet for a time, before it reluctantly pulled away. It nuzzled the side of Follower Sammy’s head, then backed away and stood up. The Ink Demon knew the other would follow, so the skeletal being reasoned that it would have the opportunity to get its horns pet another time. The Ink Demon limped over to a wall, entering as the wall swirled with dark, shadowy ink. 

-x-x-x-

Sammy sagged backward against the wall, limp and trembling.

His lord had...his savior had...

Sammy’s trembling slowed to a halt as exuberance took over. He had been allowed to touch his savior’s horns! Sammy had...Sammy had been given a nuzzle too!

Surely this meant...

No, it had to be!

Sammy flipped the mask up to cry inky tears into his equally inky hands. Finally, after so much dedication and hard work, letting others know of who would set them free. After being His prophet for so long without acknowledgement...

He had chosen Sammy...his lord had _chosen_ him!

What a momentous day!

Sammy vowed to do more to please his savior. To spread the word and let everyone know that soon, soon they would be set free! It had to be a sign of changes to come! For being allowed so close to his lord...Sammy would do whatever the Ink Demon wished of him.

Perhaps...

Sammy fruitlessly tried to wipe the tears away, a slash of a smile surfacing as he raised his head. Maybe instead of the human, Sammy should bring the toon Bendy to his savior? His lord had not approved of him going after the human, so perhaps He wouldn’t mind Sammy separating His toon self from the human?

Yes, that was what Sammy would do.

Sammy stood up, replacing the mask over his face. He had work to do, and Sammy wouldn’t let the human, or that false _angel_ , ruin his chance of remaining in good standing with his savior.

Soon, they would be free, after all this time.

Whistling a merry little tune under his breath, Sammy went through an inky wall of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sammy, Sammy plz what are you doing? This was not part of the outline I was working with for this chapter why are you like thisss (this chapter was literally a third of the length until Sammy whined and got what he wanted). *sigh* I guess he can enjoy the moment before it all goes to hell eventually.
> 
> In other news, the Ink Demon is starting to decide that it needs proper names for things it is either going to tolerate, or tolerate until it kills. Henry is going to lose his damn mind when being asked his name by something that has been trying to kill him. And ofc Sammy will prob find a way to be around for him to be scandalized by the exchange.


	19. Chapter 19

A long, frustrated sigh rang out in the studio.

Henry was really getting sick of passing out all of the damn time. It was the first thought he had when his eyes blinked open, his vision blurry for a time. As soon as Henry was fully awake and could see well enough, he determined that he was almost the same exact place. The only difference was that he was now propped up against the wall near the door.

That was...a relief.

Henry never knew where he would wake up after passing out. There was always a chance that Sammy might have come across him. Or the Lost Ones attempting to be helpful and dragging Henry to where they thought was a safe area.

This place?

Henry knew it as the area of the studio where Boris would sometimes scare him with a Bendy cut-out. There was none of that this time around, seeing as Henry had been wounded (again) and had fallen unconscious. He could even see where the cut-out was propped up against a nearby wall. Henry quickly looked down at his right arm that the Ink Demon had basically savaged. Henry found that instead of just bandages on his right arm, the limb was also in a makeshift sling. Henry gingerly tested his arm, and felt something pull at his skin beneath the bandages.

Stitches.

Henry figured that he must have been out for some time, for him to not even realize someone had treated his injury. Henry looked away from his arm when a hand tentatively tapped his leg.

It was Bendy.

”Hey.” Henry couldn’t think of anything else to say as he held still and let Bendy frantically hug him around the middle.

The toon broke down crying into Henry’s beat-up sweater, which was now missing a right sleeve.

Boris was seated on a crate nearby, his ears drooping until he saw that Henry was awake. The ears perked up ever so slightly as a worried frown crossed the wolf toon’s muzzle.

”I’m sorry...” Henry hugged Bendy to him with his left arm. “I should have been more careful. I...I have had enough of all these endless loops and I....” Henry let go of Bendy to pat the little devil between the horns. “I haven’t been as aware of my surroundings as I should have been.” Henry attempted to move his right arm but stopped because of the sling. Henry blew out a frustrated breath. “...I don’t know why I thought I could get away with punching the Ink Demon again.” Henry paused. “Did I mention that the Ink Demon purred?”

Bendy continued to cling to Henry, not seeming to hear the question.

”Why would it do that?” Henry continued on, hand going around Bendy’s shoulders. “Why not...just finish me off?”

Bendy must have heard the tail end of Henry’s questions, because he hugged Henry even tighter, the toon letting out an unhappy sound over the very idea.

Boris’ ears flicked but the toon wolf only shrugged, either uninterested in the inky creature’s mannerisms, or perhaps just uncertain why the Ink Demon hadn’t killed Henry. The toon wolf perked up and produced a Gent pipe, as if to switch to less uncomfortable topics.

”Sorry, buddy, but I don’t think I can use that right now. You keep hold of that, for now.” Henry told Boris. “My left arm is pretty sore, so I wouldn’t be able to swing very hard without hurting myself. I’ll work on stretching, so I don’t lock up too much.”

Boris nodded in understanding and tucked the Gent pipe in a loop on his belt.

”I do want something to protect myself with but maybe only when I really need it.” Henry said, half to himself and half to the toons with him. Henry watched as Bendy let go of him to step, the toon looking deep in thought. “What is it? Think of something?”

Bendy’s grin was a little uncertain but he nodded. The little devil scurried off back the way they had come before returning, carrying a bottle of ink, some paper, and a writing utensil.

”Want me to draw?” Henry ventured, as Boris settled on the floor alongside him, seemingly interested in the other toon’s actions.

Bendy’s grin widened as he set the items in front of Henry before he went to dance around the immediate area in glee.

”Can’t say no to all that enthusiasm.” Henry said with a smile. “What should I draw? Seems like you have an idea?”

Bendy stopped moving and made motions as if chopping something.

”An axe?” Henry wasn’t sure why the toon would want him to draw that.

Bendy nodded and made a show of how big he wanted the axe to be. From the space between Bendy’s hands, he wanted a smaller version of the axe Henry had been using until it had broken.

Henry didn’t question the toon’s request as he uncapped the ink and began to sketch out the design of a smaller axe on a piece of paper. It was about a foot long, before he added the axe head itself. Henry finished fairly quickly, as used as he was to seeing axes around the studio.

Bendy began to bounce around in excitement.

”What’s gotten into you?” Henry asked with a laugh as Bendy picked up the piece of paper and put it on the wall. How the toon managed that, Henry didn’t know, as he saw nothing holding the paper up. “What’re you going to do with a picture of an axe?”

Bendy brought a gloved finger up to his grin, as if asking for silence, or perhaps, to be secretive.

Henry watched curiously, as did Boris, while Bendy turned to the drawing again. Henry gaped as Bendy _pulled_ the drawing of the axe _right off the paper._

What.

Henry stared.

What had just happened?

There was only a vague outline of an axe that remained on the page, while Bendy held up the small axe proudly in his hands. The toon wore a great big grin, stepping to one side to let a perplexed Boris inspect the piece of paper. 

The toon wolf looked between the page and the axe in Bendy’s hands several times, Boris’ fur bristling.

”Wow.” Henry eventually managed to say. “I don’t remember you being able to do that in the cartoons...” Henry trailed off. What he’d just witnessed was different than the toon pulling items out of nowhere. What Bendy had done...it reminded Henry of the printing machines that he put ink inside to get items.

Boris finally made up his mind about how he felt about the axe coming off the piece of paper. Boris turned to Bendy, and clapped enthusiastically, beaming at the other toon.

”What he said.” Henry joked, as Bendy turned to him. “That’s a neat ability you got there.”

Bendy’s smile stretched as far as it could, the little devil beaming at the praise. The smile faltered a little as Bendy let out a slow sigh before perking up again.

“Are you...all right?” Henry questioned at the little slip.

Bendy nodded as he slipped his backpack off and tucked the axe inside. Bendy also put the capped ink bottle and other supplies in with axe and plushes before putting it back over his shoulders.

Somehow, the backpack remained more or less the same size. Toon logic seemed to transfer to this studio in some way.

”Ready to keep going, you two?” Henry questioned, as he slowly got to his feet. It was going to take some time to get used to his arm in a sling, but he would make do.

Boris patted the Gent pipe on his belt and gave a firm nod, despite the ears on either side of the hat tucked back.

Bendy looked unhappy about the thought but looked determined to continue on wherever Henry wanted to go.

”Let’s press on then.” Henry said with a grim smile. As he and the toon’s went through the door, Henry knew that he would have to do the best he could to avoid having anything to do with Alice Angel.

Unfortunately, Alice wasn’t willing to let Henry’s insult slide, which made progressing forward in the studio trickier than Henry had hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alice will just make things more difficult. Henry has no interest in doing the ‘angel’s bidding’ this time around. More getting manipulated into different areas of the studio Henry didn’t intend to go.
> 
> In case people are interested, I’ve been trying to put up chapter updates on my batim-only blog on tumblr:  
> because-why-not-a-batim-blog-too  
> (I’ve also been considering putting up short comic panels as a way to keep track of main points that happen in any given chapter. I have two pages for ch 1 and three for ch 2 in progress).


	20. Chapter 20

Henry had discovered a problem.

Not that that was a thing new in this cursed place.

The problem?

It reared its ugly head when Henry and the toons entered the next room.

Henry realized with a start that they were in the area where switches needed to be flipped in order to continue forward.

Boris started to head down the hall with a scared but determined look, before Henry caught him by the arm to stop him.

”It’s all right, buddy. I can take care of it.” Henry waved away the offered Gent pipe. “I’ll be careful.” At the dubious look the toon wolf gave him, Henry added, with a weary smile, “More careful than I have been.”

Boris seemed to be mollified by this, and went back to stand next to the switch.

Henry found out pretty quickly that Bendy wouldn’t stay behind with the other toon. The little devil had quickly wrapped a gloved hand around Henry's left hand to make it clear that Bendy would accompany him to the second switch. Henry made his way down the hall slowly, worried for the toon’s safety. Henry couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.

Bendy tilted his head up at him curiously.

"It's nothing. Just a little tired." Henry smiled at the pout aimed up at him. "Okay, it’s more than that. I'm exhausted, but there isn't really anywhere safe to rest yet."

Bendy wore a little frown, before he tugged on Henry's hand and led him to a room on the right of the hall.

A little detour.

That was fine by Henry.

The longer he could prolong having to hear that garble-speak of the distorted toon that would tear out of the poster for an attack, the better.

A little more quiet would be nice.

It wouldn't last, but Henry would take what he could get inside of this studio.

Henry let Bendy lead him to a table, and watched as the little devil let go of his hand and hopped up onto the table next to a cassette player.

Bendy turned to Henry expectantly.

“Want to take a listen?” Henry stepped forward and turned the cassette player on. He smiled at the sight of Bendy sitting on the table and listening to the voices of Wally Franks and Tom Connor with rapt attention. Henry figures the toon would be distracted for a time, so he wandered further down the corridor. Henry slowed to a halt in front of a broken little miracle station lying on the floor in pieces. Henry shuddered involuntarily at the sight.

It was an obvious reminder.

The one and only time that the Ink Demon had torn apart a station.

That had been one of the earliest loops, when Henry had been sent back to the beginning in a very painful manner.

Since that time, Henry _did_ begin to notice that this particular little miracle station was always smashed to pieces, no matter how many more loops passed him by. It had to have been the Ink Demon’s work, which meant the inky creature specifically came to this spot each loop to destroy the station. 

Before Henry got to it, if he chose to look at all.

Not a good thought.

Herby frowned to himself. Why was he just standing there, staring at the broken pieces of wood? It would do no good to dwell on what had only happened once, but still, it was an unnerving and painful recollection all the same. Henry was in the process of turning around when he heard something he really didn’t want to.

The gibberish snarling and sputtering the clones of the Butcher Gang made when they spotted him.

Henry barely got out of the way of one as it climbed out of the pieces of the little miracle station, swinging a wrench furiously at him as it spat nonsense at him.

Well then...

It appeared as though Alice really _was_ furious about his words to her earlier. Despite Alice celery not liking the Butcher Gang clones, Henry was certain she could somewhat compel them in his general direction.

Definitely not good.

Henry backed away toward Bendy, even turning around, only to find quite a good number of Butcher Gang clones hobbling toward him.

They continued to spit out nasty things only they seemed to understand. 

Bendy was still on the table, and was carefully keeping out of reach of any of the warped-looking toons. He looked a mixture of scared and pitying as the toon seemed to recognize the others for what they were supposed to have been.

”I’ll be over there in a minute!” Henry called out to Bendy, while sincerely hoping that it didn’t take that long. There was only so long Henry could fight before he tired himself out and was overwhelmed. And while he was already worn out?

A bad situation.

Henry caught a swinging wrench and tore it out of the Piper’s hand. With a set expression at the number of enemies he faced, Henry began to bash the distorted toons with the wrench held tightly in his left hand. It hurt his shoulder, but Henry was desperate enough to ignore it in favor of not being overtaken by the Butcher Gang swarm.

His right arm was a useless tagalong in a sling. It just figured that Henry would find himself being swarmed while unable to properly defend himself.

Bendy curled up on the table against the wall, shivering. It appeared as though the toon had forgotten that he had an axe. Or maybe the little devil was frightened. The more likely answer was that maybe Bendy didn’t, or couldn’t, fight.

Henry focused on the end of the hall where all of the distorted toons were gathered. That was...a large swarm of enemies to deal with, and only with a wrench. But he had to get out of this area to get to the one with the switch. Henry looked things over, and decided that he wasn’t going to let the Butcher Gang clones anywhere near Bendy, should they notice the quivering toon. Henry grit his teeth, and stepped forward. 

There wasn't any more time to think this through.

Only act.

Adapt to the change.

"Bendy!" Henry started to clear a path. "You're going to have to go on ahead and flip the switch. Take a right when you get out of this hall and then go left. One of these distorted guys comes out of the poster, so if you can avoid them and flip the switch, that'd be great. I'll...I’ll need to keep these ones busy." Henry kicked a Fisher out of the way and sent another two distorted toons to the floor with a hefty smack upside their heads. "It's opened up!"

Bendy worked up enough courage to weave through the space Henry had made, running frantically and disappearing around the corner.

When the toon was out of sight, Henry beat the Butcher Gang clones heavier than before, baring his teeth in a savage grin.

This was so nice.

So satisfying, to smack these mockeries to hell and back. Turn them to ink with enough swings, so that they could no longer hurt anyone.

Henry wasn't sure how long he fought the seemingly endless enemies, but he knew that he had been struck several times. Henry's vision was starting to get covered in ink. He had to be careful or he’d end up with a trip through that inky well and come out...not quite himself. But it was preferable to being outright killed and sent back to the beginning. Henry still had no idea how it exactly worked. How some attacks destroyed him completely while some just sent him back through the well...

Henry heard a knock on wood, and he looked up with a jolt, realizing he had briefly blanked out.

The inky vision had dissipated.

Bendy was waiting a short distance away, worriedly looking down at the puddles of ink, then jumped. Scared, as the took pointed somewhere behind Henry.

Henry turned in time to catch a swing of a spanner with his wrench, and then, because he wasn’t really thinking, Henry dropped his weapon and picked the inky toon up. With a frustrated yell, Henry threw the Striker off into a dark corner.

A furious garbling tirade rose from the darkness.

Henry ignored it as his shoulders slumped, breathing hard as he retrieved the wrench. He’d defeated all the Butcher Gang clones gang, apart from the one he had just thrown. But that didn’t mean that more might not spawn somewhere nearby, and soon.

  
They had to get out of there.

Henry felt Bendy tentatively take his hand and tug him toward the end of the hall. Henry allowed himself to be led, too out of breath to protest or say much of anything. At least until he heard something behind him. A quick glance sent his heart leaping in panic. Henry moved as quickly as he could.

"Boris! Run!" Henry called out breathlessly, as he and Bendy reached the area where the toon wolf was waiting for them.

Boris' fur stood on end, pie-cut eyes widening in fright as his jaw dropped open at the sight of gibbering clones behind his friends.

"Go! Take Bendy with you! I'll catch up with you two.” Henry was forced to heft Bendy up into the air and into Boris' waiting arms as a Piper and Striker got a little too close for comfort. "Take the stairs! Avoid the elevator as best you can! Take shortcuts, anything.”

Boris gave a reluctant nod and kept his arms firmly around Bendy as he took off running, ears flat.

Bendy was distraught, struggling within the toon wolf's grasp.

Henry felt horrible, but he really didn't want to little devil to see what was more than likely going to happen. Already, more Butcher Gang clones were stumbling their way to Henry from another direction, and there was nowhere to run. There were simply too many enemies for him to deal with.

It seemed like there was going to be that trip to the well of voices this loop after all.

Henry spun about and thwacked the nearest warped toon hard, sending the Piper stumbling backward into several of its fellows. Just because he was going to lose here didn't mean Henry wasn't going to fight back at least a little. He couldn't fall back into giving up and letting whoever it was he faced in the studio kill him so easily.

Wait.

That was...

Why did that seem so familiar?

Henry blocked a few strikes from a Fisher, before the blows began to land, Henry’s vision becoming covered in splotches of ink.

Had he given up before? 

A Striker slammed Henry painfully into a wall. Henry's left arm finally gave out on him as the wrench fell from his limp grasp. Henry always put up a little of a fight before he was sent to the ink, like he had right now.

Right?

The last thing Henry heard before he was overwhelmed by the Butcher Gang clones was a distressed noise from Bendy from some distance away.

And then nothing but darkness for a short time. The darkness soon became the inky well.

It was as depressing as it always was, what with all the screaming and whispering.

Henry found it quite tempting to just let those numerous voices and the general hopelessness sweep him away. It would be nice to stop fighting and just rest, instead of being constantly exhausted and in pain all of the time.

Wait...was that how he ‘died’ before? How things went back to the beginning without him ever reaching the end. 

Henry couldn’t rightly recall, as the voices and general sadness around him threatened to pull him down and keep him there. But Henry wasn't going to let it.

Not this time.

Henry _had_ to go back.

Bendy and Boris were still in the studio, and Henry wasn’t about to abandon them.

This was...going to be unpleasant.

One formless swim through the inky well of voices, coming right up.


	21. Chapter 21

Bendy struggled within Boris’ arms, but no matter how Bendy twisted, the toon wolf refused to let go of him. Bendy stilled for a moment, before he wriggled around until he could wrap his arms around the back of Boris’ neck. This let Bendy look back the way they had come from.

Boris moved one gloved hand to pat Bendy’s back beneath the backpack reassuringly.

The soothing touch was little comfort.

Bendy was simply too worried.

And why wouldn’t he be?

Bendy could just barely see the way Henry fended off those scary versions of the Butcher Gang.

Then, Henry was gone, out of sight, as Boris went further down a hall with twists and turns.

Bendy couldn’t help but continue to squirm, even the toon knew that it was no use to go back and try to help. Bendy didn’t want to fight, even if the toon _had_ pulled the small axe off of the paper that Henry had drawn on. What use was a weapon, if Bendy couldn’t bring himself to use it?

Boris seemed to sense the other toon’s distress, and let out a low growl of concern. That broke the silence the toon wolf normally kept, and effectively startled Bendy.

The little devil had never heard Boris make a peep, ever!

Of course, this wasn’t Bendy’s Boris. This Boris was different, somehow, but Bendy had yet to figure out why. It was something that had been troubling Bendy, when he wasn’t distracted by the studio or Henry.

Boris patted Bendy on the back again, issuing out another sound, this one a whine of concern.

Bendy finally gave up attempting to get away from this version of his friend. Boris was only trying to help by keeping him out of danger, and listening to Henry to go on ahead. Bendy sagged against Boris, pressing his face against a furry shoulder, unable to help but tear up.

Bendy felt miserable, which was not in character for him. But something...something was _wrong_. For only a few moments, it felt like he was being torn apart inside, even though Bendy knew that he was perfectly fine.

It was the studio and its occupants, wasn’t it?This place, while interesting, was much too dangerous.

Bendy let out a little sob and clung to Boris tightly, sending the toon wolf to run more quickly.

Henry was going to get hurt again, wasn’t he?

A flash of intense pain suddenly worked its way through Bendy, and the little devil let out a gasp.

What. 

What was _that_?

Why did he hurt like that, all of a sudden?

Bendy sniffed and lifted his head, uncertain why an ache had settled into him, until it was gone. When Boris slowed to a halt, Bendy raised his head a little more. Bendy’s grip around Boris’ neck tightened, fear leaping through the smaller toon. 

The two of them were in a larger room now, with two floors. Below, there was a safe box, like the one that Bendy and Henry had hidden in before. There was nothing to their left, and to their right, were two doors with symbols on them, and then some stairs.

That was all well and good, but...

The Ink Demon was blocking the way down.

That was frightening. 

Did it see them?

Bendy shook as Boris held him firmly, the toon wolf looking around hastily, presumably of where to go.

The Ink Demon’s screeching rang out.

It _had_ seen them.

Bendy held on for dear life as Boris took a leap of faith and went over the railing to avoid the Ink Demon’s limping charge. The disgruntled snarl made Bendy flinch as he and Boris ended up on the lower floor. The little devil didn’t even realize that he had rolled out of Boris’ hold until he realized that he was _on_ the floor and Boris had let out a low whimper of pain nearby.

The Ink Demon leaned over the railing, its head cocked to the side, as if someone going over the railing to the lower floor was a novel idea. 

Bendy scrambled up and over to where Boris was curled up on the ground, clutching one of his legs. Bendy attempted to get the toon wolf up, but stopped when movement made Boris flinch and whine. Bendy saw that the safe box was close, but the scary version of himself had just hoisted itself over the railing, and landed on the lower floor on all fours, teeth bared.

Boris seemed to have recovered somewhat and painfully began to inch his way toward the safe box, the toon wolf’s ears flat against his head.

Bendy took out the small axe from his backpack and shakily held it up in the Ink Demon’s general direction.

The Ink Demon’s teeth chattered together as it rose to its feet. It seemed almost...amused?

Bendy couldn’t stop his body from quivering but he was determined to make sure that Boris had a chance to get to safety. Bendy was fairly certain that he could avoid the scary version of himself, since he was quicker than it.

The Ink Demon stepped forward with a low growl, before it slowly reached out with its left hand. 

Bendy let out a strangled cry as he was lifted into the air via the axe that the Ink Demon had just grabbed with its gloved hand. Bendy held the axe tightly, even when he should have just let go and made a run for it.

The Ink Demon’s right hand reached out and one clawed, inky forefinger tapped Bendy in his belly in a weirdly gentle way.

Bendy was horrified that he let out a little giggle.

That had tickled.

The Ink Demon froze, before it did the motion again, this time tapping several times in a row.

Bendy was unable to prevent all the laughs from escaping him this time.

The Ink Demon appeared to be baffled.

Bendy regained his breath and reconsidered letting go of the axe.

The Ink Demon’s right hand drew away and reached up to its own face to slide the ink out of its vision.

Bendy froze in place as those creepy eyes assessed him in eerie silence. Bendy slowly let go of the axe and dropped to the floor, flinching as the Ink Demon broke the small axe, even though its eyes never left the toon’s.

Even odder, there was no violence in the Ink Demon’s eyes, a stark contrast to the breaking of the axe. There was only curiosity, and what appeared to be something like irritation. It was as if the Ink Demon was not quite certain what to make of a toon Bendy.

The silent staring contest was broken when a rough yell came from above.

”Get away from him, you inky asshole!”

Bendy jumped backward in surprise as Henry came out of nowhere to land on the Ink Demon.

Henry seized the skeletal creature’s horns and tugged backward.

Bendy clapped his gloved hands over his mouth as he backed away, letting out a tiny scream as Boris scooped him up from behind and brought him into the safe box.

The door remained open, presumably for Henry.

Bendy twisted within Boris’ arms to watch, even as it sunk in that Henry was okay.

Henry was here, and he was all right!

Well...Henry seemed to be okay, even if he was covered in a little more ink. It was hard to tell, but Henry seemed to be just a little...different, than before, even though it was a barely noticeable change.

Bendy’s smile turned to a frown as he watched Henry continue to hang onto the Ink Demon’s horns, kicking it in the side when Henry was able to.

The Ink Demon thrashed around, snarling at the unexpected attack.

Bendy looked away. It was scary to watch Henry fight, even if he wasn’t exactly hurting the scary version of the toon. 

The Ink Demon let out a furious shriek, and there was the sound of something breaking, accompanied by a groan of pain.

Henry had been thrown off of the creature.

Boris let go of Bendy and reached out to frantically drag a half conscious Henry into the safe box.

Bendy saw the approaching Ink Demon and hastily closed the door. It was a tight fit, but they would be safe, just like before. Bendy pressed close to both Henry and Boris as the Ink Demon crashed into the front of the safe box. A chill ran through Bendy as he happened to look up.

The Ink Demon peered through the slot in the box, its eyes still uncovered.

Bendy held his friends tightly as the other him spoke in a harsh, grating tone.

B̶̧̩̺͙͖̭̳͚̘͚̥̻̤̩͎͛̌́́̆̚e̴̞̻̯̤̿̇̊̿̌̓͒͒̓̊̄͊̆͠a̷̢̗̦̩̩͓̠̥͍̖̝͉͗͘͜.̴̪͇͙̮̼̹͕̻́̒̒̾̐̽̈̓̔̎́̀̚͜͜ͅ.̸̼͉́́̈́̏̏̇̕.̷̛͈̻̎͑͌̽͐͛c̸̰̙̣̘̭̪̗̿͒̀͆̍̓͂̀̓̍̕͝o̶̧̡̳̺͇̦̪͖͑̐̄̊͊ń̸͙͖̜̳͇̜̹͖͜.̷̨̛̣̦̱͇͂͌͑́͛͘͜͝  
  


Bendy squeezed his pie cut eyes shut, struggling to block out the jagged feeling the Ink Demon’s words brought him, even as the inky skeletal creature continued to speak.

The Ink Demon raked the claws of its right hand against the wood, making its words come out sinister yet also light and playful at the same time. It was jarring.

Č̸̨̛̲̙̰̹̹̦̺̞̼̈́̈͂͒̃̆͊͒̒̈͑̕̕̚͠O̷̢̤͕͎͇͙͕͖̠͑̊̏M̶̡̧̨̲͇̣͙̯̟͚̤͓͉̺̰̗͖̪̤̹̻̙̦͔̗̥͐̑̐̄̔͌̐̒̔͜͜͜͜Ȩ̶̤͎̬̰͚̫͚̘̯͙͚͕̘̦̱̪̭͊́͌́̕̚͠ͅ ̵̡̣̯̭̲͕̥̮̝̮͔͍͎̱̣͕̻̼̙̺̦̩̤̱̤̮͔͊̍́͆̈́̈͒͌̿͊̂̍͑̈́̃̕͜͜͝͠ͅŎ̸̢̮̲̣͎̻̳̤̩͈̙̘̻̭͔͎̗̭̻̙̱͐͂̂̀͊̆̽̀̉̊̎̑̿̓̏̎̀̆̽̄̀̋͑̄͘͘͜͜͜͝ͅŲ̶̧̧̢̼̙̝͚̘̹̠͚͓̤̠̖̲̳̦̩͉̙̰̱̺̦̜̎̍͛͌ͅT̴̛͓̼̝̠͚̮͆̊͛͂̓̀̏̿̈́̂̈́͜͝ ̵̨͖͔͇͙͙̔̈́̊̈͊̎͋̊̊̍̾̈́̓͘Á̴̢̨̯̮̺̩̰̳̮͖͊̽̓͐̄͗̄̅͒̆̔̉͌̀͆͒̓̐̃̚̚͘͘͜͝ͅÑ̶̛͕̤̤͕͈̟̺̠̳͔̠̖̦̥̲́̈́̇́̏̾̌̒͂̎̒̅̉̚͘͘Ḑ̸̟̯͈͓́̈́͘͘ ̴̢̡̮͈͍̟͒̎͌̀̋̈́͗͊̐͂̈́̓̊̾͌̒̾́̕̚͘̚͜P̷̧̛̼̻̥̗̬̞̟̥̥̜͕͔̬͈̝̊̂̏̇̒̀̉͂̀̐̏͜͝L̶̢̖̬̥̘̖̼̭̠͎̠̦̦̫̫̝̞͎̩̘̫̈́͂̿̄̊̏̀̎̕͝ͅA̷͎̲͉̗̯̝̪̲̾͂̋͛͘͝Ý̶̦̣̺̹̞͓̩̮̜̰̼̫̜̠̙̈́̿͆͐͊̇̽͂̈́.̷̧̛̼͕̪͒͛̽̿̑̈́̽̐͂̃͂̃͘͠.̴̨̢̹̞̳̝̟̱̹̫̠̣̱̥̰̱̲̻̃̉̉̌̊̉̑̀̒̂̓́̀.̸͕̺̦̩͎͕͚̪̫̯̺̭͑́̋̈́̒̔̂̓̋̈́̅͑̽̉̂̂̅̒̈́̊̚͝ͅͅ  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Henry, come out and play with the distorted inky creature. I’m sure it will be fine :)
> 
> Also, I find it funny that despite the changes that are taking place as I write this story out further along, the summary is still accurate. Henry just happens to have more friends in the studio than he realizes, and therefore won’t be violent to them (maybe a little at first, until Bendy convinces him otherwise-but not the crazy Alice).


	22. Chapter 22

Henry lamented the fact that he was back in a little miracle station, when he hadn’t wanted to hide any longer. But Henry was relieved that both of his toon friends were safe. 

A low growl emitted from the Ink Demon as its claws raked the wood of the station.

Henry ignored it.

The Ink Demon wasn’t going to open the door, or destroy the little miracle station. The inky creature had already made it clear that it wanted to chase Henry down.

Henry ran a hand over his face and let out a slow, shaky sigh. Henry still hadn’t calmed down from the sight of Bendy facing off against the Ink Demon. How Bendy clearly didn’t have it in him to strike out at the Ink Demon with the axe. And when the creature had lifted Bendy up via the axe...

That had been a terrible sight.

Hebry knew that he hadn’t been thinking clearly when he saw the interaction. All Henry had seen was Bendy in danger, so, Henry had acted, and leapt off the upper floor to land on the Ink Demon.

That had been rather reckless, considering that he had _just_ come back from the well of voices, after being sent there by the Butcher Gang clones.

Henry stared down at his hands, before clenching then into fists. He could still feel the slick of the ink that covered the skeletal Ink Demon’s horns and body. It was a crawling sensation, of something very wrong.

Otherworldly.

Henry supposed that it had been a good thing to be thrown away by the Ink Demon, even if it had hurt to end up hitting a wall and being knocked senseless.

Ć̵̼̤̻̠͓̙̫͚̩̟͔͘o̵̖̺͎͓̠̿̈̈́̋̆̈́͐͒̕͠ͅṁ̴̳͍̪̻̣̅ê̶͎͉̩̣̗̠̝̰̱͜ ̴̧͉͇̗͖͎̱͂̑͊Ơ̵̧̨͈̬̘̳̻͌̒̃̍͆̈́̃̔͝͠Ų̷̨͙͇̹̝̰̪̠̝̬͉͇̃t̷̢̡̺͉̭͓̭̦̰̘̅̑̈̿̅  
  
  


  
Henry shivered involuntarily over the sound of the Ink Demon’s words.

”Can’t.” Henry muttered. “Too out of it. Try again later.”

The Ink Demon growled.

Hitting a wall had really discombobulated Henry, and he didn’t fancy stepping outside to take his chances with the Ink Demon. Henry didn’t think that he would be able to last very long right now with the Ink Demon’s version of playing-likely with its teeth and claws.

The inky skeletal being gave the little miracle station a shake, but it still didn’t it seem inclined to break inside.

It really wanted to chase him, huh?

Henry righted himself from the rude shaking of the station, and took his sweet time checking himself over. Henry found no noticeable changes to his person, apart from a few more ink stains. Thankfully, he had yet to lose a finger, which would have indicated further...toonification?

Would Bendy be scared if he happened to turn into a taller version of the too ?

Henry hoped to not have to find out.

In any case, Henry was still himself this loop, and would continue to be, so long as he was actually careful. This was unlikely to happen, but Henry would do his best. He had told Bendy and Boris that he would be more careful, after all.

Bendy sat down next to Henry and gave him a worried little frown.

Henry reached out to offer a hug, and smiled faintly over the way Bendy leapt into it. Henry hugged the toon to him, inwardly relieved that the only good thing that came out of being sent to the well was that his wounds had healed over.

There remained only the scars and an ache.

Henry flinched at a harsh snarl, and glanced up in time to see the Ink Creature stomping away from the little miracle station. Henry groaned when vet the way it crawled up the wall and railing to the second floor.

Great.   
  
Just what Henry wanted.

The Ink Demon more mobile and able to cut off escape routes.

Wonderful.

Just _great_.

Henry _loved_ running for his life in this damn place.

A short silence followed the Ink Demon’s departure, before distant screaming and garbled speech could be heard. It seemed as though the Ink Demon sensed the butcher gang clones that were still mulling about.

Henry wasn’t sure why the Ink Demon would bother, unless it somehow knew that the distorted toons in the other room had sent Henry to the well. Perhaps the inky creature had wanted that honor for itself.

“I’m glad you guys are all right.” Henry said to Bendy and Boris, before directing his words to the latter, chiding the little devil gently. “That was dangerous. You should have run. The Ink Demon could have hurt you.”

Bendy drew away from Henry with an averted gaze.

”But you did it to protect Boris. I could see even from the upper floor that you were afraid of the Ink Demon but...” Henry reached up to pat Bendy between his horns. “Just be careful going forward, okay? It might not be so curious in the future.”

Bendy still looked a little sad but cheered up over another hug from Henry.

Henry let go of the little devil and scooted over to Boris to check on the toon wolf’s left leg. While Henry did this, he was aware of the way Bendy was checking him in a similar fashion. As if the little devil was checking for himself to see if Henry had any injuries apart from being sore from being thrown against a wall.

Henry removed the boot, expecting any number of horrors for a toon foot, and was relieved to merely find a cartoonish version of a wolf paw. Henry twitched at Bendy tapping his shoulder but as soon as Henry released, turned to find Bendy holding up a roll of bandages. Henry accepted the item, not questioning how Bendy was able to fit everything into the small backpack he had made.

Apparently, toon logic still worked within the studio, to a certain extent.

Boris let out a low whine of protest when Henry found that the toon wolf had twisted his left ankle. Boris quieted bit grimaced nonetheless as Henry wrapped the bandages around Boris’ ankle.

The boot was left off.

”Going to need you to stay off of your foot for awhile. For now, we’ll go to a place with better lighting and a until we have some better lighting safe place to rest apart from a little miracle station.“ Henry told Boris.

The toon wolf gave a reluctant nod. obviously he didn’t like the idea of leaving relative safety but it was also just as likely that Boris didn’t want the Ink Demon to come back to loom over them again. Boris made a silent indication that he wanted to stand up, with Henry’s assistance.

Bendy went to open the door of the little miracle station as Henry helped Boris up to his feet.

Henry carefully brought Boris’ left arm over his shoulders, and felt the toon wolf lean into him, hand tightening to hang on. Henry wrapped his right arm around Boris’ back.

Boris let out a low huff as he narrowed his pie-cut eyes down at his bandaged paw before side-glancing at Henry.

“Ready?” Henry asked. Seeing the nod, Henry stepped forward slowly as they stepped out of the station.

Boris leaned heavily agaisnt Henry as he hopped along on one foot, the toon wolf trying his best to keep of his left.

”We should go to level 11, by stairs. There’s a place there with a little miracle station, a soup machine, chairs and a table.” Henry commented. “There would be enough space to rest and keep an eye out for the Ink Demon. There’s that long glass window, so we would have enough warning to hide.”

Boris considered this silently before he let out a sound somewhere between a grunt of agreement and a bark. Boris was clearly just happy to not be taking the elevator.  
  
Bendy stuck close to his friends, even if he seemed to be excited over the idea of going somewhere new.

Henry was happy the little devil was in such a good mood, especially after coming face to face with the Ink Demon so recently.

Taking the stairs to level 11 was a little nerve wracking, what with the ever lurking danger of the Ink Demon, and other beings who could have turned up to make their lives hell.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much happened the last chapter but this one will introduce another character, and toon Bendy being cute again. Because why yes, Bendy will attempt to make friends with anyone who doesn’t attack him on sight.

Henry was honestly surprised they made it to their destination without being harassed by enemies.

No one appeared at all.

Not even a stray Searcher.

Even Alice had been oddly silent, though she was no doubt fuming over Henry still walking around after being ambushed by the Butcher Gang clones. She probably hadn't noticed that being overwhelmed by attackers had worked, even if Henry had come right back.

Bendy seemed to be oblivious to the danger that could have been. But Bendy also could have been trying to remain upbeat despite the potential of enemies springing up out of nowhere. Bendy walked alongside his friends with a skip in his steps, humming softly. Bendy’s head swiveled to and fro as he looked around. Bendy obviously wanted to explore but was sticking close to Henry and Boris, worried about the latter. At least, it seemed that way, with Bendy's pie-cut eyes staying often to the toon wolf and his hopping gait.

Boris’ ears perked up again, alert as he glanced around level 11.

Henry turned his head to meet the toon wolf’s pie-cut eyes, because Boris had suddenly turned his own head to look at him. Henry wondered if Boris had just remembered something. Those pie-cut eyes were certainly narrowed at Henry specifically but not in an unfriendly way.

Boris just looked confused.

Did he remember something?

A past loop?

Or did Boris maybe...recall who he used to be _before_ he became a toon?

Henry wasn’t going to get his hopes up, but the fact that Boris was vocalizing instead of being mute seemed encouraging, even if there had been no actual words.   
  
Boris looked away, appearing to think hard about something.

“I need to check to see that the path ahead is clear.” Henry said, further down along the hall. Henry helped Boris into a seated position against the wall, and took the Gent pipe from the toon wolf when it was offered.

Bendy hovered next to Boris, worried again, but indicated with a wave of a hand that he’d stay with Boris.

Henry ventured ahead through the area and made his way toward the start of the inky flooded floor. There were only a few Searchers and Butcher Gang clones to dispatch, which Henry dealt with as quickly as he could. Henry returned to his friends soon after, panting with effort from the swiftness with which he had dealt with the inky beings.

Another side effect of passing through the well.

Henry offered the Gent pipe to Boris.

The toon wolf waved it away with a shake of his head.

Henry looped the weapon on his belt before he helped Boris back to his feet. They resumed their slow walk-hop.

”Almost there.” Henry muttered to Boris, before checking on Bendy.

The little devil had wandered into the area with the ink-flooded floor.

The sound of a projector could suddenly be heard in the distance.

Shit.

Henry had completely forgotten that the Projectionist showed up in this area for a brief time. Henry had also temporarily forgotten about how curious Bendy was about the studio.

The sound of a projector likely meant a reel playing a cartoon to Bendy.

”Wait!” Henry called out, but it was too late.

Bendy had already raced on ahead excitedly.

Henry and Boris reached the long window, both witnessing the way the Projectionist slowly made his way along. Henry assisted Boris over to the little miracle station, just to be safe. When Boris opened the door and hopped in, Henry turned away and ran past the table and chairs after Bendy. Henry’s mind was awash with worry for Bendy’s safety.

The projector could still be heard, which meant that the Projectionist hadn’t yet vanished through a door.

Why?

Henry stumbled to a halt, panic leaping in his throat at the sight of the Projectionist kneeling in front of Bendy, an inky hand held out for a smiling Bendy to grasp.

The Projectionist’s head was tilted to one side, reflecting confusion somehow, despite his head being a projector. The light flickered quickly before evening out. The speaker on the Projectionist's chest let out some static.

Bendy was blissfully unaware of the precarious situation he was in as the toon hopped in place excitedly. Bendy's grin was wide as he continued to hang onto the inky being’s hand.

The Projectionist's light flickered on Bendy, projector head still tilted as he watched Bendy turn his inky hand over, still bouncing in delight. The Projectionist seemed at a loss of what to do with this unexpected development, yet remained crouched so that Bendy could be withing easy reach of his hand.

Henry had never looked too closely before but he was surprised to see four fingers and a thumb. Had the Projectionist’s hands always been like that? Henry supposed that he was usually too busy running away from the Projectionist to notice. Unfortunately, Henry shouldn’t have just stood in place where he was like an idiot, because the Projectionist saw him.

...however that was possible with a projector for a head.

The projector light brightened and flickered a little faster as the speaker on the Projectionist’s chest crackled to life with a terrible screech as he lurched up out of the crouch.   
  
Henry _almost_ missed the way Bendy was swept behind the Projectionist before he charged Henry with another crackling, static-filled screech. Henry turned tail and fled, joining Boris in the little miracle station. Henry turned in time to see the Projectionist halt in front of the now-closed station, projector head tilting in a calculating way.

Without warning, the Projectionist punched the door, a static almost-growl emitting from the speaker. 

“Norman?” Henry asked aloud, curious.

The Projectionist stood there for a moment longer, the light flickering slowing as a crackle of static sounded. This went on for a short time, before the Projectionist turned and slowly walked away.

Henry let out an exasperated noise.

Did everyone in this damn studio just _know_ he was hiding? That he didn't actually just cease to exist to them for a short time? They all knew he was there, and yet none of them could be bothered to open the damn door to drag him out?

Henry watched with trepidation as the Projectionist reached out and down toward Bendy. 

The Projectionist merely pat Bendy between the horns, a garbled static emitting from the speaker, before the Projectionist resumed his awkward gait down the hall and around the corner, out of view.

Bendy seemed perplexed by the whole exchange, but was happy nonetheless over making a friend. Bendy cheerfully skipped over to the little miracle station and sat down on a chair at the table. As soon as Henry and Boris cautiously exited the little miracle station, Bendy beamed happily at his friends, toothy grin wide.

At least someone was happy.

Henry was more pensive. He was not sure what to make of the Projectionist’s actions, nor the brief pause and crackle of static when Henry had said ‘Norman’.

Was he...could it be that the Projectionist was more aware this loop?

Or was it a fluke?

Henry did have to wonder, as he did during some of the loops, if the Projectionist really _was_ Norman. Henry had only asked out of curiosity, to see if there was any recognition. But Henry didn’t want to get his hopes up in this place. Not if he was unable to change the outcome yet again.

Boris let Bendy inspect his bare foot-paws, the little devil seemingly fascinated that the boots came off.

Henry smiled.

As before, Henry knew that he would do his damndest to take out as many inky creatures in this place as he could, before they kept him down for the count.

Especially if they threatened his friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meetings with the Projectionist in this fic have changed a bit since first working on this story.  
>  *stares at toon Bendy*


	24. Chapter 24

The wait for something to happen was the worst.

The false sense of calm was unnerving.

Henry attempted to ignore his own discomfort by checking up on Boris over the next few hours. At first glance, the toon wolf seemed upbeat, if a little uncomfortable over the state of his ankle. Henry felt guilty for not being there sooner for Boris and Bendy. To distract the Ink Demon, and give them time to get to safety.

Boris eventually noticed Henry’s mood. The toon wolf gave a shake of his head and waved a hand idly, as if to say he was fine. That Henry didn’t have to constantly check on his ankle, as if Henry had been the one to cause the injury. 

Henry backed off on the checking, but that only gave him extra time to stew in negative thoughts and what-if`s.

The quiet soon became _too_ quiet.

The lack of inky enemies spawning to attack was odd. 

It caused Henry to be on edge. He cast a glance Boris’ way.

The toon wolf winced, having accidentally moved his foot-paw wrong.

Bad ideas for a good cause formed, and were soon ready to be acted upon. 

Henry needed to _do_ something.

Retreiving medical supplies seemed like a good way to spend time doing something useful.

Henry _was_ familiar enough with the studio at this point that he wouldn’t get lost. Henry could do some good by helping speed up Boris’ recovery.

What could possibly go wrong?

“Hey, you two.” Henry stood up , stretching as he cast a gance toward the long window pane. “I’m gonna go get a first aid kit. I’m pretty sure I know where one is.”

Bendy and Boris glanced at one another, before both toons made gestures and displeased noises over the very idea.

”I won’t be gone long.” Henry`s attempt at reassurance was met with skeptical looks. Henry couldn’t help but smile. “Really, I’ll be fine. I have a Gent pipe, and I don’t have to go very far down the stairwell to get to where I’m thinking the kit is.”

Both toons remained unconvinced.

“I`ve gone though this all before, you know. I know my way around this studio well.” Henry smiled at the affronted look on Boris’ muzzle. “Yeah, I know you know this place too, buddy, but you’re not going anywhere on that foot right now.”

Boris let out a huff, but acknowledged the words with a half-shrug as the toon wolf settled on the chair comfortably.

“Bendy, can you stay here with Boris?” At the unhappy pout, Henry added. “He needs someone to be around in case he has to get into the little miracle station.” The pour deepened, and Henry sighed. “You wouldn’t know where to find the med kit, and based off the earlier face-off with the Ink Demon, you might end up having to run from anyone that might try to attack you.”

Bendy didn’t seem to be too happy but did seem to agree with Henry’s assessment. The little devil didn’t want to fight if he could make friends instead, and that was dangerous in a place like this.

With a sad downturn of a toothy grin, Bendy hopped up to sit on the table, as if to say he would stay with Boris.

Henry felt bad about leaving the toons behind as he headed out, but he didn’t want to put either of them in unnecessary danger. Henry berated himself for his quick exit, but he hadn’t wanted to give the little devil time to change his mind and run after Henry to tag along.

He wouldn’t be gone long, anyway.

Henry hoped.

The studio could be an unforgiving place.

With a deep breath, Henry squared his shoulders and headed for the stairs.

Focus, Henry, focus.

Medical supplies.

Beat the shit out of anyone who tries to stop him.

Easier said than done.

Henry exhaled harshly as his feet hit the steps one by one.

He wanted a damn axe again.

Oh.

Duh.

There was an axe behind that boarded room on level 9.

Henry grimaced.

He’d take care of Boris first, before thinking about stepping foot on Alice’s home level.

Level K was Henry’s first stop, once he’d checked the stairwell landing. With nothing of note, Henry carefully ventured out to explore the rest of the floor. 

Out of spite, Henry hid all of the Bendy cut-outs that he came across. The ones that Alice normally tasked him with destroying. Henry didn’t want to accidently draw the Ink Demon to him, or upset Bendy by breaking cut-outs of his image. Henry decided to also hide the three gears he usually retrieved. Henry broke nto the panels with a screwdriver he had found. Henry didn’t care if hiding the items meant possibly drawing Alice’s wrath.

She wouldn’t have her ‘errand boy’ this time.

Henry refused to do the angel’s bidding.

Once the last cut out was hidden well enough, and the final gear secured and hidden, Henry finally came across a small amount of medical supplies. They had been tucked away on a shelf amongst all of the plushies.

Not much to the med kit, but it would have to do.   
  
Supplies secured, Henry went back to the stairwell, prepared to go rejoin his friends. Instead, Henry rounded a corner and almost ran straight into Sammy Lawrence from behind.

Where the hell had _he_ come from?

Henry took a cautious step back. Maybe Sammy hadn't noticed him? Henry could have sworn that there had been no one in the stairwell earlier.

Not that Sammy _couldn’t_ just seemingly appear from out of nowhere.

The music director was humming softly as he plucked the strings of some instruments in the corner.

The area where Henry sometimes heard Sammy’s disembodied voice.

Right now, a voice would have been better than the real deal.

The music director’s humming drifted off as he finally noticed that he had company. Even with the broken and put back together mask, it was clear that Sammy was displeased to see Henry there.

”You!” Sammy spat, wasting no time to lunge at Henry. “Where is my lord?! Where is He? What have you done with our savior’s toon form?!”

Henry ducked back out of range of those inky hands, dumped the medical supplies on the desk, and then ran for the nearest stairs.

He went the wrong direction.

Being chased by a madman did that to your sense of direction, making you choose the closest route of escape.

This was _not_ part of the plan.

Henry went out on the nearest floor, not wanting to be cornered in the stairwell by a furious Sammy. Henry had a Gent pipe, yes, but he wanted some room to be able to swing it about.

Level P.

Henry located an area down a hall, where there was a room with enough space that he could watch his back. Henry took the Gent pipe in hand, before he took in a breath and let it out.

"Bring it on, you singing psycho." Henry muttered irritably. "Let`s get this-"

Sammy stalked into the room moments later, hefting an axe menacingly.

Henry ground his teeth in frustration.

Of course.

Of _course_ Sammy was holding an axe.

Henry wasn’t too confident that the Gent pipe could block the swing of an axe for very long before breaking. 

Searchers spawned and attacked Henry, giving him no time to dwell on the sturdiness of his current weapon. Henry swing the pipe and struck the Searchers, trying to keep them at bay.

It was not going well.

Sammy was urging the other inky beings to attack Henry, even though the music director wasn’t actually saying anything aloud. Sammy was also getting too close to Henry’s current position, as though Sammy were eager to swing his axe at him.

That would be...messy right now.

Henry was still human, so he wasn't going to bleed ink.

Not that Sammy knew that.

Henry did his best to keep up with the swarm of Searchers, but between the never ending attacks and Sammy clipping though his clothes and nicking skin, it wasn’t enough.

He was cornered.

Wounded with every hit he couldn’t deflect.

Soon, Henry was unable to continue on, ending up on the floor. It was always humiliating to be swatted and beaten up by Searcher fists or open palms.

Henry had fucked up.

Badly.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

Henry shouldn`t have let this happen again.

Not this loop.

It was getting harder...to see through all the ink.

Before Henry’s vision was blocked completely by Searchers, he saw that Sammy had pulled up his mask.

There was an expression of vindication on his blank face, which showed that Sammy felt that a wrong had been corrected.

”You will not prevent our lord and savior from reaching all in this desolate place. He will set us free. None of us trapped in this place will remain behind.”

Funny, how Sammy either sounded lucid or completely insane.

Darkness came, surrounding Henry completely.

Silence soon became deafening noise as the swirling darkness and light gave way to the well of voices.

Henry let out a weary disembodied sigh. 

_Great_.

He _really_ hoped this wasn’t going to be one of _those_ loops, or Henry was going to have some explaining to do to Bendy. 

The whispers and the screams were louder this time, and it took a bit more effort on Henry’s part to get through to the end of the well, his thoughts troubled.

But to be fair, Henry was distracted.

How did one explain to a toon that you were turning _into_ a toon each time you were beaten? Each time you visited this place? That Henry would end up becoming a toon Bendy,.

Sort of.

Because of previous loops, Henry knew that he would become a Bendy who was much taller than the original.

A mix of both toon Bendy and the Ink Demon, in fact.

Henry never could figure out why. But every time, without fail, Henry would end up towering over Boris by about a foot and a half, Henry’s clothes draping on the taller, yet thinner, frame.

That would be...an awkward one-sided conversation to have.

For Henry, at least.

No.

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not right now, with all the screaming, crying and whispering of the well filling his sense of sound.

Henry wouldn’t think about becoming a toon unless he absolutely had to. Henry could very well be able to prevent that from happening but with how his 'careful' was turning out to be anything _but_ careful...

Focus. 

Henry needed to focus.

He was nearly there...and then-

Henry came to at the base of one of the Bendy statues. Henry let out a groan before he briefly looked himself over. Already, he could feel that there was a change, but couldn’t put his finger on what just yet. Henry figured he should get going. He didn't want to get cornered again.

Level P.

He better get going before Sammy came across him again. Henry reached for the Gent pipe, only to find it gone.

Lovely.

Unarmed again.

Henry kept an eye out for trouble as he went into the staircase and went to go retrieve the medical supplies. Henry found the med kit right where he'd left it. Henry hesitated before reaching out to flip over a shard of glass. Henry stared at himself in the reflection, turning the glass here and there to get an overall idea of his state of being.

More ink stains...check.

Still exhausted and done with the bullshit...double check.

Henry opened his mouth experimentally before shutting it with a grimace.

Oh boy, there it was.

Henry tentatively parted his teeth before he snapped them together to wryly grin at his reflection.

Yup.

There was the change.

Henry’s teeth had shifted to being slightly flatter, as well as blockier, kind of like the Ink Demon. It felt weird as hell to eat, drink or talk with these particular chompers, as they barely fit in Henry’s still human mouth.

Joy.

What next?

A tail?

Henry didn't think so, but shifted on his feet to reassure himself that he didn't have to worry about-

No.

No _way_.

"I was just joking," Henry protested uselessly to thin air.

What was up with this loop?

With mounting dread, Henry reached backward to pull out a long, thin black tail from where it had been trapped down a pant's leg. Henry gave it an experimental tug.

It was attached.

To him.

Why the hell did he have a tail?

Becoming a toon before had never involved a _tail_.

Henry groaned over the irony of the tip of the black tail being what he`d imagine a devil`s tail to be in a drawing. Henry let go of the tail, aware of it idly flicking back and forth behind him, as if reflecting his mood. Henry held the med kit tight as he hurried back to level 11, distracted by his...his _tail_ , as it swayed back and forth with an occasional nervous flick.

This was...going to take time to get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry ‘I’ll be careful’ Stein, everyone.
> 
> Also, I feel like Sammy is turning into that ‘I won’t hesitate, bitch’ vine when it comes to finding Henry in the studio now and/or finding Henry with toon Bendy or the Ink Demon. Especially when the Tommy gun makes an appearance.
> 
> (Someone was getting a tail in this fic, and that someone was Henry).


	25. Chapter 25

Henry reached level 11 without incident, but that very well could have been because the Searchers were still grouped together with Sammy. Or so Henry presumed. He was currently acutely aware of the tail he had now, as he swiftly walked away from the stairs.

One hall and a room...

Just about there...

Henry swore and abruptly stopped the moment the Ink Demon came out of the wall, and into his path.

The Ink Demon took a few steps through the ink-flooded floor, its head swiveling to and fro as inky shadows spiraled out across the walls.

Henry distantly heard the slam of a door, signaling that Bendy and Boris had taken shelter in the little miracle station. That meant they would be safe, while Henry, standing out in the hall, most certainly was _not_. The med kit Henry held was carefully placed on a chair as he slowly stepped back the way he had come.

Not _again_.

This was getting real old.

The Ink Demon pivoted to the left to face Henry, revealing that it had moved the ink out of its vision once more to reveal those weirdly humanoid eyes. The inky creature let out a snarl and lurched toward Henry with its uneven gait, its left hand outstretched.

Splashes sounded along the hall as Henry ran in the opposite direction. 

It was a horrible case of dejavu.

The memory of the demon path with its inky flooded floor rushed through Henry’s mind as he ran. Henry heard the Ink Demon closing in, and sprinted for the elevator, regardless of Alice potentially having control of it.

He didn’t make it.

One moment Henry saw the open elevator, taunting him with safety. The next, Henry was roughly thrown to the floor, the Ink Demon’s teeth snapping near his face. Henry foolishly tried to punch the skeletal being but the gloved hand snapped up to catch him by the wrist. Henry kicked the Ink Demon in retaliation, surprised when its leg bucked and the grasp around his wrist loosened. The ache in Henry’s healed over wounds became more noticeable.

That was...concerning.

Henry wriggled out from beneath the Ink Demon, yet instead of running away, like a smart person, Henry clambered onto the creature’s back instead. Without hesitation, Henry put the Ink Demon in a choke hold because hey, it _did_ have a neck. Henry’s right arm locked across the front of the creature’s neck, his left arm coming from the other side of the neck to grasp his other wrist before digging his forearm into the surprisingly soft skin.

The Ink Demon spat out a vicious snarl as it began to try to buck Henry off its upper back, its spines flicking in agitation.

Henry held tight and dug into skin harder as he gave a kick to the side of the ribs. Henry released a shaky laugh, as a thought came to mind.

Did the Ink Demon even _need_ to breathe?

Henry used his legs to lock around the narrow waist, even as he let out a gasp as the Ink Demon suddenly let itself drop to the floor with a hiss.

Not because it was hurt, but because the Ink Demon was still trying to get Henry _off_.

”Not gonna work.” Henry breathed out, clinging to the inky being. “Gonna see if I can choke you out. Maybe I can get a moment of peace and quiet, so long as Sammy doesn’t find you passed out.”

The Ink Demon issued out a terrifying gurgle.

Laughter.

It was clearly laughter.

That...didn’t bode well.

Henry wondered as he did before if the Ink Demon having was getting a sense of self. And not the feral animal sense of awareness that it already had. The idea that it was beginning to understand, and more importantly, speak, would bring far too many questions. A few worrying ones, too, over whether or not the Ink Demon had somehow gained a soul after all of these loops.

The Ink Demon was unable to bite Henry at this angle, but it could grasp at Henry’s arms. The creature’s claws latched lightly into the fabric in warning. 

Why didn’t it just force Henry off of it?

The Ink Demon let out another gurgle of laughter before it scared the shit out of Henry by speaking more clearly than before.

**“Name?”**

”You don’t know who I am? After all these loops? And after knowing who, well, created your actual design?” Henry asked incredulously. Better to focus on the word than who was speaking it. Henry’s voice dropped into an irritable grumble. “Dammit, Joey, what hell were you thinking? Weren’t cartoons good enough for you?”

Obviously not, after exploring the studio countless times. 

“Who am I kidding? Joey obviously wasn't thinking clearly if it meant he could keep the franchise going, at the cost of everyone else’s well-being.” Henry blew out a frustrated breath, which caused the Ink Demon to hiss. Henry’s attention went back to it. “C’mon, don’t make that sound at me. You had to have heard Alice say my name one of those times. You...you seem to remember me well enough to come after me all the time.“

  
**N̵̦̞̬͜͝A̸̢̳̦̭͕͊̉̉M̷̖̻̲͎̰͓̽̈́̉̏̒̚Ę̴̳̭̺͗̈́̎̀͐̂.̴̟͚̝̭̲̫̻̹̽͒̿̀̂̌͝**

Impatient.

Expectant.

The Ink Demon didn’t seem to care about being choked as much as getting a name.

”...Henry...” It was very uncomfortable to Henry that the Ink Demon was eerily quiet as it stared at him. Henry wasn’t sure he could get away if he let go do the Ink Demon’s neck, so he didn’t. 

“ **Beacon**... **Henry**.” The Ink Demon suddenly ground out.

”Just Henry. I am not a light source.”

” **Beacon. L** **ook bright.”**

Henry became distinctly uncomfortable as the Ink Demon’s head turned to the right, one of those unsettling eyes meeting his own.

Those teeth were much too close for comfort.

” **Not** **bright**... ** _without_**.” The Ink Demon seemed to have trouble finding words, so it raised a hand to its head to indicate the ink that still dripped down from its head.

Wait.

The Ink Demon thought Henry looked bright while ink was in its vision?

That didn’t make much sense.

Wouldn't it make it harder to see?

”Maybe that ink isn’t good for your vision, then. Being, ah, _illuminating,_ isn’t normal for me.” Henry couldn’t believe he was having a conversation with a creature that normally attempted to kill him. “Humans don’t glow.”  
  
The Ink Demon stared at Henry silently, but before it could say or do anything more, an affronted voice rang out.

Or rather, it spluttered.

”You! You dare! How are you...how are you still _here_? You...they...I...I will-“

”Can it, Sammy!” Henry cut in, recognizing the voice. He was not dealing with this shit right now on top of a tail _and_ the Ink Demon’s appearance. “I do not need to hear your crazy rambling. It attacked me first. I’m just protecting myself.”

”You dare try to take my lord away from us? First his toon form, and now this one too?” Sammy was obviously riled up. He had even removed his mask and set it aside.

Henry wondered if Sammy remembered him punching him in the face.

Sammy fussily made certain the mask was safe, before he stomped across the floor and tackled Henry. Sammy seemed to have no sense of the potential danger, as the music director seemed more intent on attempting to drag Henry away from the Ink Demon.

“Sammy, what the hell? Are you crazy?!” Henry was exasperated. “Don’t answer that.”

Sammy pulled harder.

Henry clung to the Ink Demon tightly. If Henry let go, the inky skeletal creature would attack them both. Already, Henry could feel and hear it growling.

Most unfortunately, Sammy was still stronger than Henry, and the music director succeeded in breaking Henry’s chokehold around the Ink Demon’s neck.

“Let go!” Henry struggled within Sammy’s grasp, unwittingly smacking the other man with his tail, though Sammy didn’t seem to notice. “Idiot! You’re going to get us both killed and sent back!”

Sammy didn’t say anything, likely too offended by Henry’s treatment of the Ink Demon to listen. It was only when Sammy was pinned down to the floor alongside Henry that Sammy seemed to realize his error.

Henry didn’t dare move, the clawed right hand of the Ink Demon digging into his sweater and through to his chest, scraping skin. Henry couldn’t help but let the tip of his tail nervously tap against the floor. Henry let out a short laugh over the way the Ink Demon growled directly into Sammy’s uncovered inky face. 

Sammy remained absolutely silent, unwilling or unable to move. 

Henry suddenly felt the Ink Demon let go of him, as it directed its growl at him.

” **Chase** **later**.” The Ink Demon hissed out, before it turned its attention back to Sammy. Its right hand gouged claw marks into the floor next to Sammy’s head. This drew a rather high pitched yelp out of the music director.

Henry didn’t question the lucky break. He ran away as quickly as he could.

Why, oh why, didn’t he have that axe?

Henry really hated to run away.

Again.

The Ink Demon could be heard making a series of loud screeching noises mixed in with some words. It was weirdly funny to picture Sammy being given a scolding by a literal nightmare of a creature.

Henry tuned it out as he picked up the med kit, happy and very relieved that he would soon be back with his toon friends. Henry kept an eye out, just in case a stray Searcher popped up, but nothing came. So preoccupied with what had just happened, Henry temporarily forgot about the tail he now had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as an FYI, I finally got the job I’ve been trying to get for months. So while it is a job where I’ll be more or less alone sorting though papers, this means that I will probably have to start to update on weekends only (or when a chapter is ready-I’m getting to the point where there may be more time between chapters).
> 
> I’m hoping that since the job involves no phone work or interaction with more than one or two people (and no customers) that I will continue to be able to write without too much interruption. Most jobs tend to be mentally draining to me, so hopefully a quieter job won’t affect my motivation to write.


	26. Chapter 26

Screaming out its frustration and displeasure somehow managed to calm the Ink Demon down. Destroying something would have been more productive, and less tiring. It could feel its throat was a little sore, which meant it had been screeching much too often this time around.

These repeats of time.

It was different now that it could think about things with more clarity. Things that didn’t make sense before were starting to.

The Ink Demon turned its head down and stared wordlessly at Follower Sammy. It knew that it had just finished expressing its displease over the other attacking Beacon Henry again, and yet Follower Sammy was still there, pinned by its gloved hand.

Follower Sammy had not run, again.

Time and again, throughout the repeats of time, Follower Sammy had been there. The terms ‘lord’ and ‘savior’ were still lost in meaning to the Ink Demon, but it knew enough that the words were somehow Follower Sammy treating it well.

With...respect?

A jarring memory of a voice, one that wasn’t Beacon Henry’s, came to mind, sending a massive quiver through the skeletal creature.

 _’Get that thing out of sight! What would the investors say if they saw that...that_ thing _wandering around? It’s an abomination, is what it is. Too many people in the studio have seen it as it is. What? Only three? Well, that’s three too many. We can’t let it roam around like this anymore. It should have been destroyed-‘_

The Ink Demon’s right hand pressed to the side of its head, eyes squeezing shut.

It didn’t like that voice.

It didn’t like being reminded of the trap-place. 

The chains that restricted movement.

Bad.

A bad place.

A bad memory.

_’Can’t you keep it contained? It keeps getting out and into the halls. The other day it was with Norman. Sammy had it in the music department last week! It’s bad for our image to have that...that abomination around. So if you can’t keep it where it’s been, then find somewhere on the lower floors of the studio to keep it. And don’t come back until you make sure it can’t leave.’_

Bad. Bad. Bad. Badbadbadbadbad.

The Ink Demon let out a discomforted growl, pressing its clawed hand to its head harder.

”M-my lord?” Follower Sammy sounded hesitant. “I-is something else the matter?”

The Ink Demon felt one of Follower Sammy’s hands reach up to hesitantly pat it on a horn. When had it lowered its head? The Ink Demon noticed that its head was resting on one of Follower Sammy’s chest without realizing it. The Ink Demon thought about it, before it decided the reassurance was needed.

Follower Sammy never tried to hurt it.

Before, with Beacon Henry...Follower Sammy had just been attempting to get the human off of it. To make Beacon Henry stop squeezing its throat.

Assistance.

Offering help.

Giving reassurance.

Still rather foreign concepts it, and yet...

Follower Sammy offered no ill intent toward it, not that the Ink Demon could recall. Follower Sammy was offering reassurance and continued to pet its horn. Follower Sammy seemed to be content to wait for the Ink Demon to decide what to do with him.

What did the Ink Demon want to do?

Follower Sammy had seemingly meant no harm to Beacon Henry. That Follower Sammy had listened to it earlier. The Ink Demon cocked its head to one side, before it decided that it would let Follower Sammy go. The unhappy memories of that voice...of the one who didn’t like it...the Ink Demon would ignore it. 

It was the past.

Nothing more.

But before it left, it just had to make sure that its message had really been received...

“ **Mine. Beacon Henry mine. Chase only**.” The Ink Demon reluctantly drew away from Follower Sammy’s letting of its horns and prodded a gloved finger gently to the other’s chest. “ **No chase. No attack**.” 

There. 

That should be enough. The Ink Demon was still figuring out how to form the words it wanted, but for now, the words it had spoken would do just fine.

”O-of course, m-my lord.” Follower Sammy stammered. “It won’t happen again.” He was quiet for a moment. “Are you...all right?”

“ **Bad past times**.” The Ink Demon stepped away, staring at Follower Sammy for a moment. It blinked, before looking in the direction Beacon Henry had gone. “ **Unpleasant...human. From past**.” Words seemed a little easier then before, even with the little time that had passed from its previous words. The Ink Demon focused harder on Beacon Henry’s location, but intrusive thoughts persisted.

Failure.

Abomination.

Monster.

The Ink Demon straightened up with a snarl as it shook the unpleasant memories away, and began to head in the direction that Beacon Henry had gone.

It had questions it wanted answers to.

This time, after so many other times, something was different.

Different enough for the Ink Demon to take notice of. It presumed that Beacon Henry would know what was happening.

It would have those answers.

The thoughts that were forming...how they moved away from simple ones of chase, catch and kill. The Ink Demon was aware of it. That its mind was beginning to connect memories and how this connection led to past and present thoughts.

The Ink Demon dragged the claws of its right hand along a wall.

What did it all mean?

-x-x-x-

Sammy’s pulse had yet to slow down after coming face to face with his savior.

Literally.

Those teeth had been very close the entire time the Ink Demon had been screeching at him. All Sammy had taken away from the tirade was the clear picture that the Ink Demon wanted him to stay away from Henry.

It was...unexpected, to hear all of those words between all the growling.

Sammy picked up his mask that he had set aside, and turned it over in his hands reverently. His lord and savior had spoken to him.   
  
Well, snarled, but _still_.

The Ink Demon had spoken.

His lord had spoken to him _again_.

Sammy would be able to carry out His will the more He spoke in an understandable way. Sammy’s inky face split into a pleased smile, a flash of gold appearing where his eyes would be before it faded. Sammy replaced the mask, and hummed as he walked in a different direction than his savior had.

There was some...concern, over the way his lord had acted. To allow Sammy to pet his horn again...to get so close as to nuzzle against him again...

Something was troubling his lord.

A human from the past, which meant that it was not Henry.

Sammy would think on who could have possibly upset his lord and savior so much, but for now...Sammy had another task.

Toon Bendy.

He must be unhappy, trapped with the non-believer.

Sammy set his jaw, a flash of jealousy rising over remembering the Ink Demon asking for Henry’s name. His lord didn’t need to know it, if He would kill the human once He caught him.

But, no matter.

His lord had let Sammy know what He wanted, and as his Prophet, Sammy would bow to His wishes. Which sent Sammy back to his previous idea the last time he had come across the Ink Demon.

Rescue toon Bendy.

Sammy figures that the toon may be unhappy for a time, but surely seeing the lost ones further below would help. Would show toon Bendy that his mere presence could offer hope and cheer to those trapped in this miserable place.

It had to be a sign.

A sign that they would all be free, sooner rather than later.

The despair was getting to be too much to bear, for everyone within the studio.

With another hum of some tune from long ago, Sammy went about his preparations. He needed to wait for the right time to strike, and in the meantime, Sammy would go acquire a little assistance, to deal with Henry.

Some...firepower.

-x-x-x-

The Projectionist had returned to his endless patrol of the dark depths of level 14.

Past and present collided in a confusing mishmash of sounds and pictures. When one thought was grasped, it was lost in favor of another.

Over and over again.

Memories were in pieces and scattered about. 

All one could do was move, and exist, as one waited for those memories to solidify and make sense of the world around them.

It was a dark place, this studio, one without color, but it was always bright for him.  
  
Having a projector for a head always ensued that the Projectionist would never run out of light, unless he happened to temporarily shut off the light. But doing so brought a deep darkness where he could see nothing, not even the surroundings he had become familiar with.

A cracking static of unease emitted from the Projectionist’s chest. An inky hand reached up to rub at it irritably. The only sound he could make make was through the dratted thing, and just making those terrible screaming screeches took a lot of effort. Words were beyond him, seeing as it already took a lot of effort to ‘see’ where he was going.

It was flashes.

Impressions of rooms, walls, objects, and any living beings who may be around. Vibrations and touch, directly ‘looking’ at something with the light of his projector head, all of this helped him to better ‘see’ these flashes of what was now his world.

The Projectionist had gotten used to his body as it was now. Lately, his attentions were on the oddly familiar intruder in the studio. It was a break from the Bendy cartoons that endlessly played in a loop. And his current thoughts, usually muddling and confusing? They were clearer than ever before, even amongst the sounds of projectors, his own included.

Connecting the dots.

Using hazy memories that surfaced to cling to coherency, even if the clarity was punctured by the sound of the Projectionist’s own projector head reel turning endlessly. The Projectionist let out a static growl of frustration as he reached out to rest a hand on a wall. 

His focus was slipping.

The Projectionist needed to ground himself and follow this new train of thought. Something new had just happened, on an upper floor.

Bendy.

The Projectionist pressed his hand hard against the wall as he struggled to bring up the flashes he had managed to retain of the encounter.

A toon Bendy was in the studio. It was not like the monstrous Ink Demon at all. And despite toon Bendy’s excitability, the Projectionist had found the toon’s presence comforting, in a way.

Calming.

The Projectionist had not questioned allowing Bendy to hold his hand, nor had the Projectionist hesitated to protect toon Bendy from the human that had been nearby.

The one who brought death to this place.

The Projectionist curled his hand against the wall, his speaker crackling to life again. He was not sure why he believed this. He hadn’t seen the human before.

Or had he?

Something didn’t seem to add up.

The human appeared familiar to him, and yet...

The Projectionist’s speaker crackled with static-like unease. If the human came down to this level, perhaps he could get some answers...

But how, when he couldn’t speak?

How could the Projectionist get the human to understand that he wanted to ask questions, when he had chased said human not too long ago?

The Projectionist turned his light onto his hand on the wall, and pulled it away. A flash, an image of an inky hand. Another flash, and he turned away down a familiar hall. The Projectionist began to search for a clear wall without much ink on it.

Spoken words may be lost to the Projectionist, but perhaps written words were still within his grasp. It had been some time since he’d attempted to write anything but it was worth a shot.

Though if the human brought ‘death’ with him, then writing a message could be a useless endeavor.

But the Projectionist decided to try, as doing something was better than staying in the dark, waiting for time to move forward. If he had to, he could remain in the dark of the various areas of this floor. 

Hidden.

Quiet and watchful.

If the human did come down here, he wouldn’t hear the Projectionist’s approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nervous energy for new job tomorrow allowed for a second chapter this weekend, even if the weekend is just about over :)
> 
> Bendy pov next chapter. Poor thing is so worried about Henry.  
> (And yes, Sammy is off to go retrieve his Tommy gun).


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that since it’s a holiday here that I’d update (still basically the weekend, right?)

Bendy clung to Boris, the toon wolf holding him in his arms in a protective manner.

They were still in the safe box after the scary version of Bendy had come too close to where they were.

Bendy leaned heavily against Boris, suddenly having a flash of being very worn out. It was a similar feeling to the last time that Henry had been away from them. And the last time that had happened, Henry had been hurt in some way. Or it seemed that way, since Bendy had been able to sense that Henry had been hurt. Bendy still wasn’t entirely sure how he knew that, since Henry had neither confirmed nor denied it, and had only promised the toons that he would be more careful.

More careful than Henry had been, anyway.

Had something bad happened?

Again?

Bendy and Boris both tensed up as footsteps approached their hiding spot. Neither toon could prevent themselves from flinching when a knock sounded on the outside of it. To Bendy’s relief, Henry’s voice accompanied a second knock.

“Bendy? Boris? Are you two all right?” Henry greeted the toons, his tone concerned. “The Ink Demon is gone. It’s safe to come out.”

Boris cautiously opened the door and Bendy squirmed out of the toon wolf’s hold. Already, Bendy could sense that there was something wrong. It was...a distracting sensation that lasted long enough that when Bendy came back to the present, he saw that Henry was already checking on Boris’ foot paw at the table.

Boris had already sat down in a chair and was pointing to his foot paw, as Henry brought the medical supplies over as he chatted with the toon wolf calmly.

Had the little devil really spaced out for a chunk of time?

Giving his head a little shake, it took Bendy a moment longer to notice the changes in Henry. Bendy took a closer look, as he watched Henry kneel down to better check on Boris’ ankle. 

But this wasn’t what Bendy focused on. His pie-cut eyes had latched onto something else.

A tail.

Henry had a long, thin black tail with a cartoony triangular devil tail at the tip, which swayed back and forth against the ground restlessly.

That tail had not been there before.

The little devil would have noticed it a long time ago, with how often he ducked behind Henry to hide.

Why was that tail there now?

Was it real?

And there was something else that was bothering the toon.

Bendy clambered onto the table and stared at Henry’s face intently as the human continued to murmur to Boris. Bendy ignored the words in favor of studying Henry, and that was when Bendy saw it.

His friend’s teeth were different too.

But...how had that happened?

Bendy noted with worry that Henry was avoiding his eyes now that the human noticed the toon was staring.

What happened?

The moment Henry finished up with Boris’ foot paw, Bendy pounced, landing on Henry’s lap. Without asking, Bendy pried open the human’s mouth to get a better look at those teeth. They...they almost looked like Bendy’s own, though as soon as Bendy prodded, the teeth split open like the Ink Demon’s.

Henry let out a surprised splutter.

Bendy stared a moment longer before he let go. Bendy slid off Henry’s lap and went behind his friend to give the thin tail an experimental tug. 

“Hey, don’t tug too hard. That’s attached!” Henry protested, as he twisted to look down at Bendy. Henry discreetly attempted to pull the tail out of Bendy’s hands but the toon held on.

Bendy saw a pleading look in Henry’s eyes and relented by letting go of the tail. But Bendy then clung to his sweater hem instead. He wanted nothing more than for Henry to tell him that everything was okay. That Henry had gotten the medical supplies and come straight back to his friends.

But that couldn’t be it.

What Bendy had sensed and experienced before Henry returned...it would be false reassurance.

Something had happened, and Bendy wanted to know what.

Bendy didn’t even have to say a word. He must have made some expression to express those thoughts, since Henry’s tail went limp on the floor. Bendy watched anxiously as Henry looked away from him with a weary sigh.

”Sorry. I...I didn’t see Sammy or the searchers until it was too late. There wasn’t anywhere to run and I got cornered.” Henry said in a quiet tone.

Bendy let go of Henry’s sweater to cross his arms and look away too.

So Henry _had_ been hurt, is what he was implying. Henry hadn’t been careful like he promised he’d be. But how had he gotten away?

From Sammy?

The near-formless inky searchers?

And before, his did a Henry get away from the false Butcher Gang members?

Bendy gave an exaggerated jump when he was suddenly enveloped in a loose hug by Henry.

”I know you can’t speak, but I figured from that look that you want to know what happened.” Henry murmured. “I don’t really know the best way to break this kind of news, so I’ll just be blunt.”

Bendy didn’t like he sound of that.

”In this place, if I’m hurt too badly, I...I die.”

Bendy gripped the back of Henry’s sweater.

What?!

”But I don’t stay dead? I get sent to this place where I don’t have a solid form. Call it the well of voices, ‘cause there’s all this whispering...and some screaming. It’s a constant stream of voices, all around me. In the well, dark and light swirl around.” Henry seemed to subconsciously hold Bendy closer. “It’s disorienting, at times. That makes it difficult to find my way back to the studio. Sometimes I don’t bother, and get sent back to the beginning.”

This was...

”But I didn’t give up. I wanted to come back this time. I didn’t want to leave you and Boris all alone.”

Bendy didn’t understand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. Bendy didn’t want to think of Henry dying.

Repeatedly.

”But, as you can, uh, see, each time I come back from the well... ” Henry sighed again. “Well, I’m less myself each time. I only remain who I am on the inside, as my outward appearance changes more and more.”

Bendy caught motion and turned his head to see Henry’s tail flicking in an agitated way.

”These changes don’t happen every loop...but it seems like this time, the transformation _is_ going to happen.”

Bendy was trying really hard to understand. He recalled some of this, residually, at least, from hearing Henry hope to see him, back when Bendy had known nothing but darkness before his arrival to the studio. Bendy glanced past Henry’s shoulder and looked up at Boris, who was looking away as well, his ears tucked down and back.

The toon wolf looked unhappy.

Wait.

The one sided conversations from before...

Boris had been through this studio before too, hadn’t he?

Did that mean Henry and Boris had both been attacked before?

More than once?

Bendy struggled through what he could remember of his time in the studio so far. All of the new things to explore and experience. Bendy wasn’t entirely sure what he thought about what this ‘loop’ meant but from the defeat in Henry’s voice...

This _had_ all happened before, minus Bendy’s own presence.

This loop thing was why Henry always seemed to know what was going to happen, before it did, apart from when things deviated from normal.

Nothing had been normal since Bendy arrived.

The toon knew that now for certain.

There were differences that were becoming bigger and more noticeable the longer Bendy was there with his friends. Henry seemed to know what was going on in the studio less and less as time went by.

Was that good or bad?

Did it matter?

His friend was hurting and Bendy felt terrible that there didn’t seem to be much he could do to make things better. Bendy wriggled out of Henry’s grasp and immediately wrapped his arms around Henry’s waist, pressing his face into his friend’s chest.

A hand gently began to pat his back.

Bendy noticed that he had taken off his backpack at some point. He should remember to bring it with him when they left this area of the studio.

”I was trying to be careful.” Henry said quietly. “Sometimes this place just doesn’t allow me to take it easy. At times, everything is thrown at me, trying to drag me down.”

Bendy remained in place for a time before he finally let go of Henry. Bendy wanted to lift the mood of his friends somehow, and he perked up as an idea came to mind.

Drawing.

Perfect!

Bendy ran over to the table and dragged the drawing supplies out of his backpack and hopped onto the chair. The little devil sent a happy, hopeful grin Henry’s way as he laid the items out on the table and slid them to the opposite side.

”Sure, why not?” Henry said after a moment of staring at the paper. “A little doodling sounds like a good idea right now.”

It hurt Bendy to see the almost-cartoony smile on Henry’s face. But the mood became better, marginally, as Bendy watched Henry began to relax the longer he doodled on the sheets of paper.

Boris leaned over in his chair to watch as well, ears perked up and attentive now.

Bendy looked over all of the doodles before the toon pointed to one in particular. With a smile, Bendy then pointed at himself.

”What? You want a hoodie?” Henry asked.

Bendy nodded, unable to keep his excitement down at the thought. After all, Henry looked like he was comfortable in his clothes, and Bendy was curious to see if clothes would be comfy on him as well.

”Wait.” Henry seemed to realize what Bendy really wanted, the human’s voice turning incredulous. “Are you saying that if I draw it as big as the page you can...make it come off the page, like that axe from before?”

Bendy eagerly nodded.

”So...can you do that with anything that’s drawn? Like if we found an old drawing or Boris drew something?”

Bendy shook his head.

”Just my drawings?”

Bendy grinned.

“I’m flattered? Though I do still wonder how you can make it work...” Henry smiled as he took a fresh page and sketched out a hoodie, with a little pouch for the toon to put his hands in and a bigger hood that would accommodate Bendy’s horns.

Bendy was bouncing on his feet in excitement as Henry slid the completed drawing across the table. Bendy didn’t even put it up on the wall this time. He just pulled the black and white hoodie out of the paper with an eager grin. 

The sight of clothing suddenly appearing drew surprised exclamations from both Henry and Boris, despite both having seen Bendy do this before with the axe.

Bendy wriggled in happiness as he pulled the hoodie on over his head, though the little devil paused as his horns got caught on the fabric. Bendy heard Henry chuckle and then the toon felt hands helping him move the fabric off his horns.

”You pulling actual items off paper is really fascinating, but you look pretty sleepy now, Bendy.” Henry adjusted the hoodie. “Is it draining for you to do that?”

Bendy would have waved off the worry but since Henry did try to explain what was happening to him, Bendy decided he would try in return. Bendy held his hand out and gave it a sideways wiggle, before gesturing at himself and offering a shrug.

He _was_ tired.

Drained.

But Bendy knew he would recover with a little rest. 

“So you’ll be all right?” Henry prompted.

Bendy nodded, before he became distracted by his newly acquired clothing. The hoodie was comfy and loose fitting, falling all the way past his torso to just above his legs. Bendy grinned brightly as he flipped the hood over his head and let out an audible giggle.

Comfy _and_ fun.

“Whoa!” Henry laughed as Bendy suddenly launched himself across the table to give him a great big hug. “Glad you like it.”

Boris let out an amused huff.

Bendy just grinned happily.

This friendly atmosphere right now was _exactly_ what he needed after finding out more about what had happened before to his friends in this studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute Bendy is cute.
> 
> Posted a quick doodle on Tumblr just b/c I wanted to doodle Bendy in a hoodie.
> 
> (Plot will start to move forward next chapter. Been lingering in chapter 3 of the game for awhile).
> 
> Edit 5/31: chapter 28 wasn’t finished with edits, so it won’t be out until next weekend (June 6/7th).


	28. Chapter 28

As soon as Henry found out that Boris’ foot paw had adequately healed, Henry knew that it was time to leave the relative safety of their current resting place.

Level 11 wasn’t any safer than the other levels of the studio, but it did have a food source and a little miracle station. It also had the same looming threat of the Ink Demon showing up. 

Sooner or later, the Ink Demon would find them all, with or without time to get to safety.

“Time to press on.” Henry said with a heavy sigh, as he stood up from the chair he’d been seated on.

Boris stood similarly, and moved over to stand with Henry, expression wary but understanding as well. The toon wolf knew that the Ink Demon was lurking close by, and it was better to get going before it decided to show itself out of the blue.

“Will you be all right without the boots?” Henry asked Boris. Henry had seen the toon wolf leave his boots off. At a single nod of confirmation, Henry left it at that before turning to check up on Bendy. Henry smiled at the sight of the little devil hopping over to him, wearing the hoodie. 

It appeared that Bendy was happy to go along with his friends wherever they decided to go.

Henry was glad he didn’t have to say anything more. It was easier to focus on walking and keeping an eye out for potential enemies to bash with the Gent pipe. Henry still intended to get that axe on level 9, so that was where he was headed with his toon friends as they entered the stairwell. Henry is grateful that getting to level 9 was uneventful. He was sadly distracted by his newly acquired tail, even after Henry had had what amounted to two days to get used to it batting against his legs when he forgot about it.

They wouldn’t linger very long on level 9.

Henry didn’t want Alice to notice their presence. This was only long enough for Henry to arm himself with a better weapon, and he didn’t want Bendy to wear himself out by making one of of one of Henry’s drawings. Plus, Henry wanted Boris to have a weapon and figured the Gent pipe wouldn’t bother the toon wolf to have again.

“Okay, let’s get that axe.” Henry stomped over to the boarded up doorway, and broke the wood into pieces in order to get into the small room. The axe was there, as usual. As was the tape recorder and a single searcher that lurched at him. Henry swiftly dealt with the searcher. “You two should come inside. There aren’t any more searchers, and you should come inside, just to be safe. It’ll be easier to see if anyone tries to sneak up on us.”

Bendy skipped inside first, almost immediately going to inspect the tape player on the table as Henry handed off the Gent pipe to Boris in favor of retrieving the axe. 

Boris doesn’t seem too happy about having a weapon again but he understood Henry’s reasoning and how the human wanted him to be able to protect himself. And Bendy, if Henry happened to get separated from them again.

The sound of a click drew Henry and Boris' attention to Bendy, who was now listening to Grant’s recording.

“Hey buddy?” Henry almost missed it but Boris seemed to be having a hard time with the voice that was speaking. “Are you all right? Something bothering you?”

Boris shook his head even as he let out a whine of discomfort.

Henry loosely held the axe, confused over the way Boris was reacting. But he could tell the toon wolf was uncomfortable enough that he was hugging himself. But Henry refrained from pressing the topic further when Henry could tell that the toon wolf was already uncomfortable enough that he was hugging himself.

As soon as the recording stopped, and the three prepared to leave the room, things went wrong. 

Butcher Gang clones seem to appear out of the woodwork from absolutely nowhere.

“You won’t leave this place, Henry! I won’t let you take that perfect Boris away from me!” Alices voice could be heard screaming from overhead. Her next words were directed to the Butcher Gang clones and the few searchers that had appeared. “Kill him! Rip him into shreds! Don’t let him escape!” Interestingly enough, she made no mention of toon Bendy’s presence.

Henry and Boris fended off the inky monsters that attacked them, slowly angling for the stairwell, but being pushed back by the sheer numbers.

As per usual, Sammy Lawrence had terrible timing.

“How dare you attack my lord? You are not worthy to be in His presence! I will not allow you to disturb our lord!” Sammy appeared at the top of the stairs and was carrying something very familiar.

Shit.

That crazy bastard had the Tommy gun.

“Can I get an amen, for our lord and savior?” Sammy laughed in a rather unhinged way as he opened fire on the other inky beings.

Bendy and Boris were hemmed in by the elevator, the searchers and butcher gang clones swarming in close and threatening to overwhelm the toons.

Henry was worried about his friends but oh, did he ever have his eyes on Sammy’s Tommy gun.

He would _have_ that Tommy gun.

Since Sammy was distracted with mowing down other inky beings that had started to attempt to attack him, Henry was able to sneak up on Sammy.

This was stupid and very, very dangerous situation.

Henry honestly didn’t care in that moment.

He would have that bloody Tommy gun come hell or high water.

Henry had no idea that he scared the crap out of his toon friends as he made his move. Henry recklessly charged forward and tackled Sammy, knocking the inky man over. Henry wrestled the gun away from the music director and as soon as he had his hands on it, the axe was discarded.

It was a short acquaintance, that axe.

Henry laughed hysterically at the crazy move he had just made, and ran back down the stairs. He fired a spray of what seemed to be inky bullets at searchers and Butcher Gang clones out of his way as he goes to rejoin his friends. 

Behind Henry, Sammy didn’t even seem to full realize what had just happened. Instead, Sammy was still so upset about the supposed slight against his lord that he took up his axe and confined to attack. Furious words tumbled out of him until he finally seemed to take notice of his current weapon. Sammy’s masked head whipped around until he set his sights on Henry and figured out that he was the culprit. Sammy surged forward at a quicker pace, his angry words drowned out by the other inky beings.

This situation had gone from bad to worse.

Henry didn’t think he could shoot and protect his friends from those that he couldn’t hit without risking then. So, with a reluctant nod, Henry, Bendy and Boris rushed into the elevator and closed the door just in time to prevent anyone from coming in after them. Henry rapidly hit the various buttons, just wanting to get away _now_.

Alice joined in on the din, screaming her anger at Henry.

“You may have hidden the supplies I require, but I will find them myself! I won’t bother with you, since you are clearly on that demon’s side.” Alice’s voice toned down just a tad bit, sounding pleased with herself. “While I am otherwise occupied, I’m sending you down to meet an old friend. He will keep you from running away. I’ll come collect Boris myself later.”

The elevator began to descend, and worryingly, Sammy had made the decision to disregard his own safety. The music director leapt onto the top of the elevator before it had gone down too far, and began to hack at the metal in an effort to get in.

Henry didn’t want to chance hitting himself or the others by having anything ricochet back at them, so he hoped that they’d reach their destination before Sammy could get in.

Level 14.

Henry let out a weary huff of breath as he hefted the Tommy gun, getting a feel for the weapon again. It had been awhile since he’d been able to use it in a loop. Henry felt his tail flock back and forth in unease as he slid a glance toward his friends. Henry wasn’t sure how the Projectionist would react to his or Boris’ presence. Henry knew that Bendy would be all right, from the Projectionist’s response to the toon from before. Henry glanced down at Bendy, and saw the toon holding onto his pants leg, quivering over the loud metal hacking sound the axe made as Sammy struck the top of the elevator.   
  
The elevator came to a halt soon after, just before Sammy could start to force himself inside.

Henry hastily left through the now open door, Bendy letting go of his leg as the toon followed alongside him. Henry’s tail flicked in agitation as Boris pointed over the side of the railing to the Projectionist walking around.

Sammy let out a yelp as he fell through the metal, briefly stunning himself as he hit the floor of the elevator. 

“Run! Go find a little miracle station!” Henry told Boris and Bendy. Henry saw two nods, and waited for the toons to take off before Henry rounded on Sammy and raised the Tommy gun to fire.

Sammy ducked back into the elevator with a curse to avoid being hit.

At the sound of the Projectionist’s static screech from the floor below, Henry let off a few rounds before turning and racing down the stairs.

If the Projectionist so much looked at his friends wrong, Henry would shoot.

Panic took hold of Henry as he rounded a corner to see Bendy and Boris cornered against a wall with the Projectionist’s light on them. Henry let out a yell of his own, catching the Projectionist’s attention as he raised the gun.

The Projectionist’s projector head swung around before the inky being let out a horrific static scream and began to slog through the ink flooding the floor toward Henry. 

Whoops.

Maybe he should have rethought that through better.

Henry waited until the Projectionist was out of range of the toons before he opened fire, the scatter of bullets striking the Projectionist and sending him reeling backward.

The projector head gave a disoriented shake.

Henry was about to continue shooting with the Tommy gun, until Bendy suddenly got between them and waved his hands, the little devil’s face awash with a mix of horror and pleading. Henry hesitated, not wanting to upset Bendy. He stepped backward, only to bump into two Butcher Gang clones. Henry stumbled forward as he was hit, hastily turning around to shoot his new attackers.

The Projectionist let out another furious cry as he began hoisting and throwing the distorted inky beings around, away from Bendy, who had scrambled off to rejoin Boris a distance away.

“Hide!” Henry shouted, as he continued to shoot the many enemies trying to strike him. Henry already had ink in his eyes, so he needed to be careful. 

The number of inky creatures seemed endless, but at least the Tommy gun was too.

Between Henry and the Projectionist, the area was cleared of anyone else but themselves, Boris and Bendy.

When Henry realized this, he warily circled away from the Projectionist, even as the other began to approach him. Henry withheld from shooting, even though he desperately wanted to as the light of the projector head kept him square in the light. Memories of dying at the Projectionist’s hands in past loops was strong, but Henry held back from shooting, for Bendy’s sake. But if there was any hostility, Henry would protect himself.

The Projectionist was limping now, one hand held up to an injured shoulder. He came to a halt, seeming to consider Henry for a moment. The Projectionist then raised his free hand, and pointed to a nearby wall.

Henry warily turned to the side to take a look, while still standing in a way that allowed him to keep an eye on the Projectionist. Henry twitched and held the Tommy gun tighter as the Projectionist’s light fell on the wall, illuminating it. Henry sucked in a harsh breath, sneaking a glance back to the Projectionist.

That projector head was tilted, half in Henry’s direction, and half on the wall.

It seemed the inky being was waiting. 

Henry slowly turned his attention back to the wall and approached it. Henry reached out and ran a trembling hand along the words that were written there.

Those words...

Henry didn’t ever recall there being written words there.

Why?

Oh.

Oh no.

Henry’s body began to shake as realization set in as he slowly lowered himself to the ground. Henry didn’t even care when he splashed onto his knees and leaned back, still staring at the words scrawled. There was no question as to who had left them. They were written there, plain as day. Henry clutched the Tommy gun to his chest as he let out a distressed noise.

**_I am Norman Polk._ **

Below those words, a few more were written.

**_Who are you? Why do you bring death?_ **

”...Norman...?” Henry breathed out as he turned his head and looked up, to see the Projectionist standing a little closer. 

The inky being stood there with his hand to his shoulder but there was an unmistakable nod of the projector, followed by the other inky hand pointing back to the wall.

”I didn’t...” Henry squeezed his eyes shut, still stuck on who the other was. Who he had always assumed the other to be but was never certain. “I’m so sorry, Norman. You’ve always...always attacked me in past loops. You’ve never been this...aware. I...” Henry looked at the second set of words on the wall that the Projectionist was pointing at, before adding. “It’s me. Henry. Henry Stein. Do you...remember me?”

The Projectionist’s speaker crackled several times on and off, the light flickering rapidly. Several starts and stops of what sounded like words attempting to be forced out of the speaker failed, followed by a burst of frustrated feedback.

Henry jumped as Boris suddenly came up alongside him, stealing his attention away from the Projectionist. 

From Norman.

Boris waved a hand at Henry’s tail and then his sweater as he flashed a wolfish grin before whining in concern as the toon wolf’s ears flattened down.

“Bendy?” Henry lurched up, looking to and fro frantically. “Bendy! Where are you?”

Boris drew Henry’s eyes back to him, and mimed playing an instrument.

No...

Henry rushed back to check the elevator, and then splashed his way through the entire area of level 15 that he had explored before.

Sammy wasn’t there, and neither was Bendy.

Henry let out a groan of frustration as he held the Tommy gun loosely in one hand as he rejoined Boris and the Projectionist.

Norman.

”Don’t suppose you know a way to get to level S?” Henry asked the other two. “Since Sammy didn’t take the elevator, I suppose he could be anywhere...but I have a feeling he’d take Bendy to see the lost ones.”

Boris hesitated with a quick look toward Norman before he gave Henry a wary nod.

Norman’s projector head jerked up when the gibberish noises of distorted Butcher Gang toons stumbling down the stairs reached them all. The Projectionist’s hand waved at Boris, who nodded in what appeared to be understanding.

Henry didn’t understand at all.

Had Norman and Boris somehow communicated?

Not that it mattered when a swarm of enemies that was headed their way would be held back by the Projectionist, from the way Norman turned to face them.

Henry jerked in surprise when Boris patted his shoulder and pointed. Henry followed along after the toon wolf, grasping the Tommy gun tight as he heard the static, fury filled screams of Norman. Henry wasn’t sure if they’d run across him again later, like in past loops.

Boris led the way to an out of the way door that Henry had never seen before, and watched as the toon wolf opened it up.

It didn't seem to need to be unlocked, and opened up into a stairwell. 

Henry entered through the doorway with Boris close behind, and as they descended, Henry hoped that Bendy would be all right while they were separated. The long set of stairs led directly to level S, where Henry and Boris came out through a door right around the area the elevator would normally fall and crash.

Had the door been there before?

Henry couldn’t remember, as he stared at the back of Boris’ head. Something seemed...off, but Henry couldn’t place it. But for right now, Henry knew that he had to be on high alert. He would not let Alice have Boris. 

Not this time.

Being separated from Bendy was bad enough. Henry didn’t think he could handle losing Boris again. From the sight of Boris holding the Gent pipe right in one hand, the toon wolf was having similar thoughts.

“Be careful.” Henry murmured, receiving a very serious nod in return and a pointed look. “I know, I’ll be-“

The elevator crashed down from above, knocking both Henry and Boris, who had been nearby, to the ground. What Henry hadn’t anticipated, as he dazedly attempted to rise, was to see Alice landing easily on top of the broken bits of elevator. 

Alice looked furious, her contorted face stretching on the left in a vicious snarl as she brandished an axe in her hands.

Lovely.

Wonderful.

Just _perfect_.

How Henry _loved_ desperately fighting for his life and that of his friends. Why had the Tommy gun conveniently been knocked out of his hands?

Alice screamed nonsensical obscenities as she leapt off the broken metal and rushed Henry with the full intention to swing that axe into Henry’s torso.

So much for being careful.

Henry hastily got to his feet, resigned over the fact that the Tommy gun was too far away to make a go for it. Facing the deranged angel, Henry braced himself. There was no way of getting around her and over to Boris without being sliced by the axe.

Oh boy.

This was going to hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be taking another break from posting next weekend, so the next chapter will be posted (hopefully) June 20th/21st. If that changes, I’ll edit this note.
> 
> 2nd edit- it is odd for me to work on only one fic for an extended period of time, so if you see me post new fics or updates to others before the planned update for this fic, it’s to combat being burnt out in any one fandom/a particular fic. 
> 
> Henry’s gonna have a good old fashioned fist fight with Alice once he gets that axe away from her. 
> 
> Also, Bendy is fine- he’s just a little weirded out over Sammy singing him praises and being weirdly nice now that Henry isn’t around. And the Ink Demon’s senses are tingling- it isn’t going to be particularly happy to see who is in Sammy’s company XD


	29. Into the Depths We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter update where I further lost my mind over this fic and decided to just go with it.

Henry had to make a decision quick, and he had literal seconds to make said decision, unless he wanted an axe to the chest. Henry narrowly threw himself to the floor beneath the swing of Alice's axe. Henry would prefer to not take another disemboided swim through the well of voices, or worse, be sent back to the beginning of the loop if the damage was bad enough.

There was no real good outcome in this situation, really.

That first dodge had been sheer dumb luck.

Henry scrambled to his feet, using the short amount of time he bought himself to shout to Boris.

"Go! Get out of here!" Henry ran a short distance away as Alice rounded on him. "I don't want you to be hurt like all the times before this!"

 _Please_.

Please let Boris get away this time.

Let something go right this loop.

Henry would deal with the well again if that meant his friend would be able to escape.

Boris lingered in the doorway of the way forward with the Tommy gun. It looked like the toon wolf wanted to shoot, but Alice was getting too close to Henry with her axe. Boris couldn't make a shot without the chance of accidentally hitting Henry and not the deranged angel. The toon reluctantly lowered the gun.

And spoke.

”Come back.” Boris didn’t wait for a response. He turned and ran down the hall with the Tommy gun instead.

Henry felt he should have recognized the voice, but was too shocked that the toon had even spoken to begin with. Besides, Henry was definitely more concerned with that axe coming at him again.

Alice swung the blade a few more times before she lost the axe head by slamming it hard into the metal bits of the elevator as Henry stumbled out of the way.

His luck didn't hold out, as losing the axe not deter the crazy woman in the slightest.

Alice merely threw herself at Henry, swinging a fist.

Damn.

Alice sure packed a punch.

Henry reeled backward, pain blossoming through his abdomen, followed closely by his head from the sharp slap Alice gave him next. Before Alice could land another strike, Henry clenched a fist of his own and punched Alice hard in the twisted part of the left side of her face.

Alice seemed to be briefly stunned by being struck, before she redoubled her efforts to beat Henry back into the ink with her fists.

Henry honestly never saw himself in a fist fight with this crazy Alice, but Henry had no qualms of striking a lady because he doesn’t see Alice as one. All Henry saw was a sad, twisted monster taken in by lies, who caused pain to others in an attempt to gain what she believed rightfully belonged to her.

Alice would never have it.

Henry grunted as Alice socked him in the abdomen again, and this time, it hurt a little more, as he had already been hit there earlier. Henry caught Alice by the wrist, throwing her off balance, but the twisted angel rammed back into Henry and pinned him up against the broken metal of the elevator.

The whole time, Alice was screaming her fury as she relentlessly clawed at Henry.

“That Boris was perfect! The most perfect Boris I’ve ever seen! And now...and now...!” Alice wrenched a broken bit of metal from the broken elevator and swung it hard, clipping Henry’s shoulder.

The ink was starting to cloud Henry’s vision.

”He’s no longer perfect! Boris spoke! He isn’t supposed to _speak_!“ Alice kept Henry cornered against the broken elevator, her voice rising in a terrible shriek as she swung the metal again. “You must be responsible for that! To make that Boris less than perfect! You've done something in order to foil my attempts to become beautiful!”

Henry misstepped and felt only a crack of white-hot pain lancing through his head before he was back in the dark with the whispers.

Back in the well of voices.

This time, Henry had no trouble making his way back. He wasn't going to allow Alice to take Boris again. Not this time. Henry even had the added benefit this time of scaring the hell out of Alice when he came back. Henry reformed right at the base of a Bendy statue, right in front of the twisted angel.

"No! Stay back!" Alice hastily moved away, losing the metal she’d been holding. "I won't let you touch me, demon, and send me back to the screaming well of voices! I own't go back!" Alice vanished up through the rafters.

Henry was honestly still reorienting himself from his return from the well, so he didn't see how or where Alice had gone off to. Henry happened to also be rather confused by Alice's reaction to him, until Henry looked down at an inky puddle to check out his reflection. 

And grimaced.

_Great._

How absolutely _spiffy._

Henry now looked like a mix of toon Bendy and the ink demon, with no human features left in his face. The only thing that hadn’t been transformed yet were his human arms and legs.

An odd combination.

Henry looked at himself again.

He looked like a lanky toothpick in the sweater now, his horns twitching a little.

Henry rubbed the back of his neck and let out a heavy sigh. It was a weird sensation, sighing through slightly bigger teeth than before, as Henry walked through the door to the finance department. Henry’s tail swished back and forth uneasily as he heard muffled sounds coming from his right.

Grant’s office.

Henry decided that he may as well pick up the valve handle needed to go on to the next area of the studio. But as soon as he walked inside the office, Henry paused.

Boris was there.

Relief flooded through Henry.

Alice hadn’t gotten the toon wolf this time.

_Alice hadn’t stolen Boris away._

But in return...

...something was very wrong.

Boris had set the Tommy gun down on the desk. The toon was trembling, gloved hands clutching his head. The helmet with the light that the toon wolf had been wearing was on the desk as well. 

“Boris?”

”...no, not Boris.” The toon wolf spoke again, his voice worn and resigned. The toon turned around, briefly freezing up at the sight of Henry, before relaxing again. “She sent you to the well again.”

It wasn't a question.

“Yes.” Henry stared hard at the Boris yet not Boris. “Your voice...it’s familiar.”

”I should hope so, though it has been 30 years. And however long this has been going on.” The toon wolf said, looking away as his shoulders slumped. “And yet I only _remembered_ who I was a short time ago. It’s...difficult, but seeing Norman...and this office..." Not-Boris waved a hand at the writing covering the walls of the office. “It helped bring me clarity, and I’m not sure I want it, Henry. Being just ‘Boris‘ was much easier.”

"Grant?” Henry asked, putting the other’s words together.

Not-Boris gave a single nod, still looking rather unhappy.

”I don’t know what to say to that. This loop just keeps getting crazier." Henry told the other. “Do you want me to call you by your actual name then?”

”It would be appreciated.” Grant’s toon wolf face looked grateful. “It would be better than whatever Joey enjoyed calling me when I kept insisting he stop wasting the studio’s money on such expensive special projects.” Grant looked around his office, the toon wolf’s ears flicking as an irritable expression crossed his face. “Though I guess money isn’t something that needs to be worried about any longer. This studio crashed and burned a long time ago, leaving only monsters and bad memories behind.” Grant caught Henry staring at him. “What?”

”It is really bizarre to see a character I designed and intended to be mute speak so much, but it’s nice.” Henry relaxed a bit more. “Being able to speak to you makes things a lot easier, so I’m not just asking questions until I get a yes or no shake of the head.”

”Hmm, and it is good that I have most memories of myself back, even if a lot of it from before I started working in the studio is...hazy.” Grant looked over to the Tommy gun. The toon wolf bared his fangs more visibly.

Did...did the Boris clones always have sharp teeth like that?

“Would be real nice if Joey Drew himself showed up." Grant continued on. "Could give him an explosive welcome back.”

”I think you’d get along with Tom great.” Henry commented, thinking of the unfriendly, ready to beat his ass toon wolf that had a mechanical left arm.

”Tom’s still down here too?” Grant asked, pie-cut eyes back on Henry.

”It’s another toon Boris clone that I usually meet a little deeper in the studio." Henry was having trouble adjusting to horns instead of hair, among other things like suddenly speaking to Grant. "There’s another Alice Angel too, but she’s not crazy like the one we just saw. Call her Allison.”

“Henry.” Grant frowned at Henry. The toon wolf looked very unhappy. “You do know who Allison is, right? Worked at the studio as Alice Angel’s new voice actor after Joey decided to replace Susie out of the blue? Without even telling her?”

”I know. I've heard the different tape recordings scattered around the studio.” Henry flipped the valve around in his hand after he leaned down to pick it up. “Found out that Joey lured Susie back to the studio for an ‘opportunity'.” Henry stopped moving the valve. “That crazy Alice angel has to be Susie. I’ve heard her voice pitching around between 'Alice's' voice and another. It has to be her. All of this...” Henry waved his hand around to indicate the studio as a whole. “The lost ones...the Butcher Gang clones...all of the Boris clones...Joey wanted living toons.”

“That...” Grant managed to convey deep disgust with his wolfish features. “The Ink Machine. That’s where a lot of the money was going in the end. Why Tom was around so much with all the Gent business.” Grant scowled at the walls of his office. “Why Joey was so damn desperate.” The toon wolf sighed. “I should have listened to Norman before things went to hell. Before I forgot who I was, living day to day trying to survive this place.” Grant was quiet for a moment. “There was another Boris with me, you know.”

Henry didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to interrupt.

”Wally Franks left the studio, but it seems he got lured back too, at some point. If what you're saying about Susie and the whole bringing toons to life is true. But the thing is, I don't remember Wally coming back, because that's where my memories start to get hazy.” Grant picked up the Tommy gun and exited the room. “And no, I do not know if he is still around the studio right now.”

“Has it been you I have been meeting this whole time, or was it...Wally?” Henry followed along after the toon. This was not at all like the Boris he had come to know.

”It’s him you meet in that safe room.” Grant said simply, halting in front of the closed vault door. The toon wolf sighed. “After he goes in to open the door for you to the Heavenly Toys room, it is me that you met next. Wally usually goes off into hiding.”

“You can remember that?” Henry put the valve onto the door in order to open it. 

“This time, I do.” Grant helped Henry push open the door. “Can’t say I remember anything before that. It’s... it is bits of memory that I recall. But I don’t know if it’s happened or not." Grant felt quiet, ears flattening. The toon bared a hint of fang as Grant's eyes fell on the lost ones on the platform. “Do we need to worry about them?”

”Not right now. They’re usually pretty harmless.” Henry stiffened when the lost ones actually moved, shuffling closer to him and Grant.

“Hope they stay that way.” The toon wolf held the Tommy gun at the ready.

”I’m pretty sure most, if not all of them, are former employees of the studio.”

“This is worse than I thought.” Grant said with another disgusted shake of his head. “Joey never could be satisfied with what he had.”

”No, he couldn’t.” Henry said, keeping still all the way to the tip of his tail as the lost ones formed a small circle around him.

The inky beings stared at the tall, skinny-looking Bendy with human arms and legs like he was the most fascinating thing in the whole studio.

Henry resigned himself to this treatment, figuring that he was being treated like he since he now looked like their savior. The lost ones weren't as afraid of him as they were the Ink Demon, because of the faint mix of toon Bendy that Henry had in his appearance. 

Yet another difference this loop.

The lost ones seemed...they seemed happier and not as down-trodden and morose as they normally appeared. Their glowing eyes actually conveyed interest and a great deal of hope.

Henry wondered if looking like a mix of his own creation and a monster wasn’t so bad, despite his initial misgivings about the transformation in the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got called out on FFN on my plans for this fic, and while it wasn’t all exactly what I had planned, they picked up on a good point- that this loop Henry is in (aka this fic) won’t actually end at the end of chapter 5 of the game. This means that this fic is gonna either be very, very long or I can make a new fic to be part 2. I guess I can see how long it takes to get to that point.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’re all prepared for even more characters. I had fun with this (of course, it got longer than I thought, as per usual). Did leave a how/why the characters are around at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Much like the Projectionist, this will be a rare POV. The fic is mainly supposed to be Henry’s POV, but I can’t help myself sometimes by putting in other characters POVs.

This place was mighty strange to Charley, and he didn’t like it one bit. It was nothing like his home, and in a rare occurrence, he was all alone.

It had been days since the toon had seen either of his cohorts.

Charley scowled a little as he hid behind a corner to avoid an odd lurching inky creature. Once it was gone, the toon continued down a hall.

Where were Barley and Edgar? Had they ended up in this place?

Charley harrumphed as he retreated a distance away, and his again. The toon watched someone else limp along, and made a face as he smoothed out his vest. Charley did not like that those fellas resembled him and the rest of the Butcher Gang.

Once the odd, twisted version of himself left, Charley made a left and slipped into a room, closing it just in time to avoid another terrible-looking toon.

”What is goin’ on here?” Charley muttered to himself, before twisting around at the sound of a soft gasp and a clatter further back in the room. “Who’s there?”

”Shh! She’ll hear you.” An oddly familiar, sweet voice said in a hushed tone.

”They don’t seem to notice unless they see you.” Charley moved away from the door and peeked around a cabinet, coming into contact with a frightened toon Alice Angel. “Looks like you seen a ghost, miss Angel.”

“It’s not those terrible looking versions of you and the others I’m worried about.” Toon Alice said, voice wavering only a little as she met Charley’s pie-cut eyes. “There is a horrible, taller version of myself here. She chased me after...after...” Toon Alice shook her head. “I’d appreciate it if you just kept calling me ‘Angel.’ I don’t want to associate myself right now with that twisted-looking Alice.”

Charley frowned again, scratching at a cheek in thought. This wasn’t like the Alice Angel he knew, and yet it was. What version of this Alice could be so horrible that it sucked the cheer out of the toon angel?

“I was already hurt, so I thought keeping hidden would be a good idea, for now.” Angel carefully got to her feet, before she showed the other toon her bandaged left leg.

Charley stared at the injury, and then raised pie-cut eyes to what appeared to be a bruise mark on the toon angel’s face, over her left cheek. Charely puffed up indignantly over the thought of someone daring to strike and harm a lady like that. Sure, him and the boys could get a little rough when dealing with Bendy, but Charely knew he and the rest of the Butcher Gang would never harm Alice Angel.

No one else would get the chance to cause more damage. Except for the Butcher Gang against the assailant, given the chance.

Charely would see to that, and so would Barely and Edgar, when the toon finally found them. And after that, the Butcher Gang would go track down that Bendy.

Where was he, anyhow? Why wasn't that little devil and that wolf around to watch one of their pals?

“Lookin’ to find Edgar and Barely in this place.” Charley said gruffly, shuffling his feet. “Don’t think you want to stay in here. So come along with me and I’ll make sure we steer clear of unsavory characters.”

“Apart from you and your gang?” Angel asked with a smile.

”Apart from that.” Charley said with a nod.

“It is lonesome in here all by myself.” Angel walked over to join the other toon. “This whole place, from what I’ve seen...it is a sad one.”

Charley let out some grunt of agreement as he went over to the door and peered out of it, checking to see that the cost was clear.

The hall was empty.

Charely exited the room, followed by a limping Angel, who seemed oddly content to travel along with a miscreant. Charley found it very odd to be in her presence, but couldn’t deny that it was nice to be in better company than the monstrosities he had come across thus far.

It took two more hours of scouring empty rooms for Charley to find what he was looking for.

Angel brought a hand to her mouth and giggled over the sight of the remaining two Butcher Gang members.

Both were empathetically gesturing at a locked door, which the spider toon was trying to open with a strand of string, or webbing. The other toon was heckling him.

”Yar, s’not gonna open with that flimsy thing.” Barely waved his hands at the stand Edgar held. “Waddaya think yer gonna pick with that?”

”I will get it open!” The spider toon insisted. “Just might take a bit longer.”

”...Ya sure it’ll work?”

”Yeah!”

“Makin’ a ruckus where anyone can hear ‘em...” Charley grumbled to himself as he stomped over to his two partners in crime. He lined himself up behind the two other toons and with practiced ease, thwacked Barely and Edgar affectionately over the heads to get their attention.

“Charley, yer codswallop, don’t be smackin’ me head like that.” Barely whirled on his friend, narrowing his only eye as he bit down on his pipe.

”Where were you?” Edgar asked quietly, four feet swiftly helping him turn around. He fidgeted with the strand of string in his hands. 

“Scurvy cur ain’t answered me yet.” Barely cut in, bringing his face in close to Charley’s.

A bickering match ensued, all with raised voices.

”You’re the scurvy cur who’s lettin’ Edgar try and open a door with string!”

”Ain’t nothin’ wrong with improvising.”

”With _string_?” Charley waved a hand, exasperated. “You was sayin’ it wouldn’t work earlier.”

”Changed me mind!”

”Ain’t gonna work! How’s a string to pick the tumblrs of a lock?”

Poor Edgar looked so disheartened as his pie-cut eyes stared down at the string in his hands.Then, his little chest puffed up and he shuffled over to butt into the argument.

”I can open the door with string!”

”Gah, away with you, can’t open nothin’ with that.”

”Yar, let ‘im try.”

”Ain’t gonna open.”

”Move it. Both of you!” Edgar pushed his way between the other two toons and over to the door. The spider toon had an intense look of concentration as his fangs protruded a little further as he focused.

Charley let out a long suffering sigh and joined Edgar, where he watched for a moment. Then, Charley reached out with a hand and tried the doorknob, while the spider toon continued to struggle to pick the lock.

The door swung open.

Angel, watching the proceedings, began to laugh in a very unladylike way, loud and long, at the sight.

”It was already open, you nitwits!” Charely exclaimed. 

This led to another argument, which soon quieted as the Butcher Gang realized that there was a lady in their presence. This realization led to an attempt to fumble their way to being less crude.

“Don't worry, boys, I’m not some fair lady who is surprised or offended by coarse language.” Angel took a step in the other toon’s direction but slipped, falling over. “Shit.” The toon angel swore sharply as she rubbed her bandaged leg.

The Butcher Gang exchanged glances with one another before they all dissolved into helpless laughter, even as Charley stepped forward and held out a hand in a silent offer to help Angel to her feet.

"You sure proved me and the fellas wrong." Charley said with a snicker. “So we ain’t gonna hold back.”

"I didn't know you were such a gentlemen." Angel said as she accepted Charley's help in standing back up.

"And a rouge." Charley said with a wink of one of his pie-cut eye.

Both of his friends groaned at this.

Charley rounded on Edgar and Barely as he mock-chased after them before all three were laughing again.

"What now?" Angel asked, looking between the three toons once they had quieted.

"Suppose we be lookin’ fer Bendy and Boris?" Barely ventured.

Charley made a face, wrinkling his nose even as Edgar nodded as if this made perfect sense.

"If nothing else, he'll be in some trouble that needs fixing, right?" The toon spider asked.

"Sound of that twisted Alice is trouble all on her own. More than Bendy." Charely said, looking around before staring at the door he had opened. "But I guess we might as well find the lil' devil and give him a proper dressing-down for leavin’ miss Angel here all on her own." 

"You don't need to scold him for me.” Angel said.

"Waddya do ter let him know ya ain't happy?" Barely asked, stroking his beard contemplatively.

"Give him a stare of disappointment." Alice said with a sweet smile. "And then let Boris pick something to eat from my picnic basket first.”

The Butcher Gang all laughed uproariously over this idea.

"Yer carry a basket even in bleak place as this?" Barely asked, still chortling.

"No baskets, I'm afraid." Angel said with a shake of her head. "I will just have to stick with that disappointed stare, especially if Bendy and Boris got themselves into trouble."

"How will they know what you're upset about?" Edgar wondered.

"Why, I'll just have to tell them.” Angel smiled mischievously. “While giving off an air of angelic disapproval, of course."

This set the Butcher Gang off into another fit of laughter.

Angel joined in before they all quieted down.

"Guess we better get goin’." Charley commented, not all that happy with the idea. He wasn't sure if Barely or Edgar had seen the twisted versions of themselves yet or not, so he decided to fix that, just in case. "Be on the lookout for ghastly versions of ourselves. One that kinda looked like me tried to beat me with a spanner earlier."

"Sounds mighty...unpleasant." Barely said with a brief pull of his pipe, letting smoke waft up. "Best be avoidin’ 'em if we can. Ain’t armed right now."

"That was the plan." Charley agreed.

"I really don't like this place." Edgar said quietly, winding the string around one hand.

"Don’t think anyone here in this place would like it." Charely replied, before he sighed, scratching at his tufts of hair before walking through the doorway. "Be ready to run." To Angel, Charley added. "We'll make sure nothin' happens to you. No point in bein’ our bad selves and causin’ trouble for folks in a place like this. "

With a silent nod from the other two Butcher Gang toons in agreement, they all began to lead the way, with Angel limping close behind.

Charely really did not care for this place. The darkness seemed too close, and the twisted creatures that roamed the halls only added to the doom and gloom atmosphere.

They would all have to be careful.

Unfortunately, neither the Butcher Gang nor Angel were prepared to come across the Ink Demon roaming about the studio a day later.

Good thing there happened to be a run down, underground amusement park to hide in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a mighty need for Butcher Gang shenanigans so here’s a chapter with them as a focus (along with toon Alice Angel).
> 
> Explanation for why they are in the studio:
> 
> I don’t know if it will be touched on right away or not, but Charley and co. got called there by toon Bendy after Henry calls for him (so after Bendy realizes that it is just him and Henry-which makes Bendy sad, wanting his other friends). For the purpose of this fic, toon Bendy and Alice get along with one another. And since toon Bendy counts the Butcher Gang as friends, even if they are at odds a lot of the time, they appear too. But Charley and the others don’t know this, so they are very confused and in danger because they don’t know why they’re in the studio and not ‘home.’


	31. Chapter 31

Bendy was scared.

One moment he was hiding with Boris from those creepy Butcher Gang clones, and the next, he was suddenly torn away from Boris.

There was a rush of ink all around him, frightening Bendy with whispers, before he was back in a quiet area.

Bendy felt someone let go of him, and he landed on the creaky floor beneath him.

Where was he?

Where were Boris and Henry?

And more importantly, who was he with now?

"We should be far enough away from them now, my lord." 

Oh no.

That voice.

 _Sammy_ was the one who had picked him up?

But...but he was crazy!

Bendy skittered far away from the voice, and hid beneath a nearby desk, pressed to the wall. The little devil trembled, hugging his arms around the hoodie he wore as footsteps approached.

"Why do you hide?" Sammy's voice was oddly calm, if a little confused by the toon's behavior. "There is nothing to be afraid of."

Bendy peeked up to see Sammy crouched down, the broken Bendy mask staring at the toon steadily.

Nothing to be afraid of?

Bendy turned his head to stare obviously at an Alice Angel cut out before pulling the hood over his head.

"...I suppose _she_ is something to be afraid of in this place, but even she would not dare be in the Ink Demon’s presence." Sammy said with an irritable bite to his tone. "But she will not come this far down in the studio. It is safe."

Bendy gave the inky being a disbelieving look before hiding his face again.

"Relatively safe." Sammy amended, before slowly, carefully holding out a hand. "If you would come out from under that desk, my lord, I can take you to the safest place I know of."

Bendy found Sammy's behavior odd. He didn't seem to be as crazy as before. Sammy was almost...calm, and being rather patient, compared to when he picked Bendy up without so much as a warning. As if Sammy had wanted to get the toon as far away from Henry as he possibly could.

Was it Henry that Sammy didn't like?

That couldn't be right.

Henry was a nice person.

Why would someone dislike him?

Bendy lifted his head, pie-cut eyes shadowed by the hood as he stared at the hand Sammy held out. The other hadn't said anything, seemingly content to wait for the little devil to decide to come out. Even if that meant Sammy remained crouched for an untold amount of time.

Sammy was _weird._

Bendy didn't get why he was so nice to him and not anyone else. And when Bendy looked closer, he could almost sense the hope, despite the other's face being hidden behind the mask. While Bendy still in low spirits after being separated from his friends, the toon knew better by now to go wandering off on his own. 

Just because Sammy said that terrifying Alice wouldn’t be around didn’t mean she might not change her mind and show up anyway. Plus, the scary version of himself had shown that it could show up wherever it wanted to. 

Bendy really didn’t like the mask of his own face. The toon frowned in thought, before brightening. He pointed at the mask over Sammy’s face and then mimed pulling the mask up.

”I...you want me to take the mask off?” Sammy’s outstretched hand twitched. “But I am not worthy to be-“ Sammy let out a strangled noise as Bendy had snuck forward and flipped the mask up.

Maybe the toon shouldn’t have.

Seeing what looked like a face but inky and featureless was almost as unnerving as the mask itself.

And even Sammy appeared to be uncomfortable now, but he remained crouched with his hand out. His other hand twitched up toward his face, indicating the obvious desire to flip the mask back down.

Bendy felt a little bad, but felt a little better at not having to look at a cracked version of his own face. And since Bendy didn’t want to stay wherever they were, the toon reached out and grasped Sammy’s hand. 

The other froze up, as if he couldn’t believe that Bendy had actually took his offered hand.

Bendy puffed out his cheeks a little. 

Sammy really _was_ weird. 

Was he crying?

So odd.

Bendy was just Bendy.

The toon didn’t understand why Sammy had been going on with ‘my lord’ and ‘savior` and then cried over holding the Bendy`s hand.

Sammy seemed to need some time to compose himself before he stood up. As he began to walk, Sammy kept a little bent over to lead Bendy along, without scooping the toon up into his arms again.

Bendy was relieved about this. It had been disorienting to be carried and brought through the ink. The toon hadn’t liked the sensation at all, and would be quite happy to never experience it again.

The two of them walked for some time, and luckily, the places they went through were silent and held no scares.

No Ink Demon.

No twisted-looking Alice Angel.

”In here.” Sammy murmured, his free hand twitching again as though longing to replace his mask. But he left it where it was and reached out to open up a door. Sammy led Bendy into the room, letting go of his hand as he turned to shut the door. “It is safe here, my lord.”

Bendy wasn’t too sure about that, frozen in place as he took in so many other inky beings in the room with him. All of whom stopped what they were doing to see who had entered.

”The lost ones.” Sammy provided when he saw the toon look up at him. “Those who have lost hope in this studio, many who have forgotten who they used to be. We all are waiting to be set free from this place.”

Bendy held stock-still as a few of the lost ones came over to him, hands reaching out hesitantly to prod at his hoodie. As soon as Bendy realized they were merely curious, the toon reached up and tugged back the hood.

The lost ones all had different reactions to the reveal. 

A few backed up quickly and cowered, some redoubled their efforts to inspect the toon, while others let out murmurs of happiness over the sight of the little devil.

Bendy felt bad for some of the more frightened ones, especially one that the toon found in a corner of the room who sobbed their misery aloud to the world. Bendy tilted his head to the side, thinking. He didn’t like crying, because it made him feel sad too. 

Maybe the toon could cheer this lost one up?

Bendy carefully reached out to tap the inky being on the shoulder. When the lost one peeked up with softly glowing eyes reflecting confusion, the toon offered as big a toothy grin as he could, before he started to do a quick little dance on the spot.

The lost one straightened up a little bit, and despite the mostly featureless face, they seemed to be smiling a tad bit.

Bendy puffed up, pleased that he could cheer them up.

Maybe the other lost ones in the room would cheer up if he danced for them too?

Bendy did love to perform for an audience.

It was fun!

The toon looked around for a moment before skipping over to Sammy, and pretended to play an instrument. 

Sammy’s normally expressionless face shifted the faintest amount to show off a rather genuine-looking smile. Sammy walked over to the left before he stepped back and produced a banjo.

Bendy felt a thrill over familiar sounding music and excitedly bounced around the room with the music. 

After all the scares this place had given him, the toon loved that he could dance without worrying about something popping up to chase him.

The lost ones in the room huddled together in a half-circle, seemingly entranced by the toon dancing to the music Sammy was providing. A few had even started to cry again, as if realizing that Bendy, a toon Bendy, that they had only ever seen in screen, was actually right there in front of them.

Everything seemed right in the world for a time, until reality came calling.

Bendy slowed his dance as Sammy ended another song. The toon suddenly said down and curled up, sensing the presence of the Ink Demon outside of the room, or in a close enough area to sense it. Along with another, unnerving sensation Bendy had come to dislike experiencing. The reality of the situation sunk in, and Bendy gripped the hoodie in his gloved hands.

Were his friends going to be safe?

What had happened to Henry and Boris after Sammy had taken Bendy away from them?

The sensation...

The brief pain...

Bendy hoped Henry would be all right.

The lost ones shuffled closer, a couple of them sitting down next to Bendy as they attempted to comfort him.

Sammy had set aside the banjo, hand reaching up to replace the Bendy mask over his face as he stomped over to the door. He waved a few of the lost ones off, pointing back at Bendy before he wrenched open the door and exited, the door slamming shut behind him.

Bendy curled up against one of the lost ones as they pat him gently between the horns. Bendy snuggled into his hoodie as he relaxed against the lost one attempting to soothe him, as though sensing his sadness. Bendy settles down further after another lost one draped a tattered blanket over him.

Bendy felt that everything would be all right.

Henry and Boris were fine.

The Projectionist had been helping to fight against those corrupted Butcher Gang clones.

Henry knew this place well. He knew how to find Bendy again.

The toon just had to believe in his friends, and they would come find him.

Bendy hoped that Henry hadn’t gotten hurt again, even though with a pang, the toon knew this wasn’t the case.

Suddenly losing interest in dancing earlier hadn’t been from exhaustion.

It had been that same sensation that had let Bendy know that something had happened to Henry.

Again.

Bendy couldn’t believe how many in this place seemed to dislike Henry enough to cause him harm.

The little devil curled up into a ball beneath the tattered blanket and dozed off into a fitful sleep. Bendy’s dreams were filled with shadowy monsters and Henry, who kept being hurt by those shadows. 

Being helpless and unable to prevent your friend from being hurt was scarier to Bendy than the studio itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to get another chapter up this weekend (it will be back to Henry's pov) as it was originally supposed to be ch 30, before the Butcher Gang and Bendy decided they wanted their own chapters first. I did take a bit of a break from writing this past week. Sometimes, working up motivation to write is hard, even if I am having fun with what I’m writing.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, back to Henry making some questionable decisions while the Ink Demon shows that it is getting smarter by the minute.

The five lost ones following Henry around didn’t bother him. It was a little odd, yes, and unexpected, since he had never had this happen to him before in past loops. Almost every time, the lost ones had vacated the room after Henry had passed by.

Henry supposed looking like a mix of toon Bendy and a more approachable Ink Demon helped.

Grant’s amused wolfish smile showed that the man turned Boris clone found the lost ones kowtowing to Henry and silently pleading to him with grasping hands to the other’s pants to be entertaining.  


Henry had given Grant an exasperated look, but let it lie. After all, Henry felt a bit bad scaring the lost ones and the Boris clone when he quickly located the books needed to open up the path.  


It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one that experienced those weird, distorted scenes.

”Sorry.” Henry apologized. “Sometimes I forget that happens, after having been through this place so many times.”

”You get those weird visions often?” Grant asked, looking around the records room as if expecting it to happen again.

”Only in specific places.” Henry replied, as he reached out and shoved the door open to step through.

This next place always weirded Henry out, and not just because of the drop that went a long ways down.

Such a large cavern shouldn’t have existed in the studio, but it did.  


Henry walked along the wooden floor, ignoring the long drop off the edge. He needed to focus, and continue forward, so that he could find out where Sammy had gotten to with Bendy. Henry wasn’t worried about the music director harming the toon. Henry was more concerned about toon Bendy being hurt by someone else.

”Henry?” Grant asked.

”Yes?” Henry realized with a jolt that he had been standing in front of the odd ink maker, unmoving apart from the slow swish of his tail back and forth.   


“Your mind went elsewhere.” Grant pointed out, as he looked over at the missing gear on the rickety pulley. “Will that machine you are looking at make real objects? I feel as though I have seen something like it before.”

”Yes, it does make things.” Henry turned the dial on the side until it was the shape of a gear. “Just need to go to the room in the back and get an ink blob from...well...” Henry trailed off as the lost ones crowded in on his personal space, hands fidgeting as they pet his sweater. One was even so bold as to reach up and pat his horns curiously.

”As you are otherwise occupied, I can go get the ink blob.” Grant said, the wolf toon’s sharp smile making another appearance as he loped off into the room further ahead.

”Am I really that fascinating?” Henry asked the lost ones, noticing that their glowing eyes had gathered in strength, no longer dim and sad. “I don’t suppose any of you remember me or who you used to be this time around?”

The lost ones paused in their petting, before resuming silently. No acknowledgement of the question was made otherwise.

It did seem rather personal.

Henry felt awkward being pet on the horns, even if there had been an itch close to his head that was now gone. Henry’s toothy grin tugged wider at the sight of Grant returning, the toon wolf now scowling a little as he dumped the ink blob into the machine.

”That was not how I expected to find an ink blob.” Grant said, wiping his gloved hands off on his pants. “What if that searcher had attacked?”

”I thought you had the Tommy gun?” Henry asked conversationally.

Grant grumbled the affirmative, after the toon checked to see it strapped to his back. Grant was quiet as he watched Henry pull the lever.

The ink maker shook and rattled before an inky form shot out, before solidifying into a gear.

“This is a cursed place.” Grant grunted as he leaned over, picked up the gear, and slotted it in place on the lift. “Things work that shouldn’t, and things that do won’t.”

Henry silently watched the rickety box making its way toward them. 

The sooner they got out of this place, the better. It was too open, too...

” **Beacon Henry**.”

Well, shit.

The lost ones suddenly vacated the area, wary of the Ink Demon and its sudden appearance from an inky wall nearby. 

“ **Running again**.” The Ink Demon fixed its uncovered eyes on both Henry and Grant, the skeletal being baring sharp fangs instead of blunt teeth. “ **Catch you this time**.”

”Let’s go.” Henry insisted, as he carefully but quickly went into the rickety box, urging Grant to do the same despite the wolf toon’s disgruntled look over the unsafe contraption. But the Ink Demon limping toward them with a crazed look in those eyes was reason enough to be in that box, safe or not.

” **Nowhere to...hide**.” The Ink Demon ground out. “ **Nowhere...safe. Only ink and darkness here**.”

When the two were halfway across the large drop below, Henry spoke hastily.

”Hang on, it’s going to stop and jolt us around.” Henry’s tail even reached up to wrap around the rope as his hands did. 

Just as Grant’s hands grasped the rope, the box did indeed began to shake.

”Dammit.” Henry cursed, once they were nearly across.

“ **Running. Always running.** ” The Ink Demon let out a furious shriek as it began to attack the ropes that the pulley was following. “ **No escape for you this time**.”

”It’s going to snap.” Henry warned, wrapping his hands tighter around the rope. “Get ready!”

Grant let out a curse as well as he caught sight what the Ink Demon was doing.

The rope didn’t hold up under the Ink Demon’s attack.

“ **Fall, Beacon Henry. Make chase more interesting**.”

It snapped.

Henry and Grant clung to the rope for dear life as they were swung a little bit before smacking into the wall of the cliff. At least they were on the side with the exit to this place.

”Go! You’ve got a better grip!” Henry insisted, as he clung to the rope.

Grant carefully climbed the rope several feet, reaching the top.  


Henry held the rope tighter as Grant grasped the rope from above and began to pull on it.  Henry attempted to help speed up the process by pressing his feet against the wall, and carefully inching upward.  


The Ink Demon was apparently not pleased by this.

A scraping noise joined with the hiss of fury to make a rather terrifying sight.

Henry cast a quick glance over his shoulder and cursed again as he began to try to ascend more quickly. 

“ **Close**.” The Ink Demon was crawling its way across the wall If the cavern, the Ink Demon’s right clawed hand digging in, its left gripping any crevice it could find. The Ink Demon kicked off with its feet before grabbing its next perch, even if it slid several feet down the cave wall. “ **Even closer, Beacon Henry**.”

That wasn’t good, nor  was the ink dripping back into the Ink Demon’s vision as it snapped its sharp fangs irritably while it made its way closer.

Henry got to the top, accepting Grant’s hand to heave him up the last bit. Shaking his head at the toon wolf’s start to a question, Henry grasped Grant’s hand and ran for the door. Henry slammed the door open and continued to sprint, despite Grant letting out a gasp over the vision that happened in that hallway.

The many grasping hands from the wall.

Henry had been through this same vision far too many times to give a shit anymore, even when some of those grasping fingers tore some of his sweater as he went by. Henry heard the Ink Demon barge into the room, the inky tendrils of darkness spidering across the hall walls.

Henry urged Grant to head up the slanted planks that led upward, half expecting to hear a voice.

There was none, apart from the Ink Demon’s half screeches and nonsense words coming from the hallway.

” **Won’t escape**! **Will capture**!” 

It was rather odd, to not hear the twisted Alice Angel taunting him.

The silence was rather nice, if not for the Ink Demon spitting mad at the base of those plank stairs before it started to climb up the side of the wall, tearing into those boards with hands and fang.

” **Come back here, Beacon. Come back**.”

“Well, this is unexpected.” Henry let out a nervous laugh as he and Grant got closer to the lounge. Glancing down, Henry could see that the Ink Demon was gaining on them. “I think I can slow it down. Keep the Tommy gun with you, and go ahead to see if Bendy is all right. I’m pretty sure now that Sammy would have taken him somewhere safe.”

“It’s never talked before, that I can remember.” Grant said of the Ink Demon, before fixing Henry with a sharp look. “Don’t get yourself killed again. Bendy didn’t take it well the last time it happened when I was around him.” Grant let out a sigh, before reluctantly moving further ahead.

“What happened to being careful?” Henry called after the toon wolf.

”After you got sent back to the well of voices? I don’t think you can be careful. You’ve clearly been through too much in this place to think too hard about your own safety compared to Bendy and my own.” Grant narrowed his pie-cut eyes at Henry. “I don’t know what you have planned, but I won’t hold my breath. If you look more like Bendy and the Ink Demon when you catch up with us, I won’t be surprised.” 

“I _do_ try!” Henry shot back, even though he presumed Grant was already out of earshot. Henry supposed, when he thought back on it, that he hadn’t been all that great about being careful. But Henry was going to try to be, even as he led the Ink Demon into the area just outside the lounge, where the record was playing.

Grant _had_ already gone through the door.

Good.

Heney planned to go hide in the miracle station, but didn’t get to it. The Ink Demon had lunged at him, and pinned Henry on his back, the inky creatures’a fangs snapping near his face.

” **Caught you**.” The Ink Demon hissed. “ **Now** -“

Then, it stopped moving.

Unbelievably, there was a strong sense of confusion that emitted from the creature.

“ **Beacon...Henry**?” The Ink Demon asked, clearly thrown off kilter from looking at a face that was la mix of its own and toon Bendy’s. It even addressed this. “ **Why do you look...like us? Did not before...something has changed.”**

Us, as in it and toon Bendy.  


“ **Did not before...something has changed. Is...fascinating.** ” The Ink Demon’s eyes narrowed in thought. “ **The ink puddles from that...noisy thing? Those voices...that come from only some of the ink?”**

Oh dear.

The Ink Demon meant the Ink Machine. Was it...no, the Ink Demon _was_ getting more and more coherent, especially right now as it continued to speak.

That could be...very dangerous.

The hesitation the Ink Demon apparently felt at Henry’s changed appearance and its own thoughts gave time for a certain someone to show up.

A door slammed open.

“My lord?”

Sammy.

The music director really did have some interesting timing.

“Why...why is there another?” Sammy sounded bewildered, yet in awe at what was before his eyes. 

Er, mask.

“There’s the toon version. The demon. And now...” Sammy gestured to Henry’s pinioned form. “Yet another version of my savior has appeared. Surely it is a sign.”

Henry nearly groaned.

Right.

What had he been thinking?

Of _course_ Sammy would be eager for another of his lord and savior to appear to him.

The Ink Demon’s face had been covered up with ink again, but it hastily reached up to scrape the ink back out of the way.

That was...a rather odd look, in Henry’s opinion, to send Sammy’s way. 

Calculating.

Considering.

As if the Ink Demon was figuring something out.

Henry stilled as the Ink Demon looked back down at him, before raising its head again, jaw working as though it were about to speak.

Henry let out a little gasp of alarm.

to send a rather odd look at Sammy before looking down at Henry, then back at Sammy.

No, it wouldn’t _dare_.

“ **Is Beacon Henry**.” The Ink Demon growled at Sammy, prodding Henry in emphasis. “ **Not that which you usually...praise**.” The Ink Demon poked Henry again. “ **Was human...now not. Ink changed...probably.** ”

“What do you mean, my-“ Sammy trailed off, his confusion turning to indignation as the music director puffed up, prepared to let out a furious tirade.

Dammit.

“How dare you mock our lord and savior by appearing as Him.” Sammy stomped over, daring to reach over and tug one of Henry’s horns. “Take off that costume immediately. Only the prophet may use His image to convey his will.” Sammy twitched, when he realized that the horns were real, and were not, in fact, part of a mask. Sammy let go and sat down on the floor. “H-how is this p-possible?”

“ **Ignore him**.” The Ink Demon suddenly made the decision to let go of Henry in order to awkwardly flop onto the ground next to Sammy. The inky creature silently rested its head on Sammy’s lap and let out a low growl.  


“M-my lord, what about-“ Sammy fell silent at another growl, and let out a light sigh as he reached out to pat the horns, before slowly beginning to pet the horns.  


The Ink Demon thrummed its approval of the petting, even as it narrowed its eyes at Henry, as if plotting terrible things to do to him after it was done getting attention.

...this was getting more bizarre by the minute.

Since when did the Ink Demon want what appeared to be affection and attention? And since when did the Ink Demon become so much more aware and speaking more clearly than before.

Henry could even see that Sammy had cracked a smile, since Henry was looking at the music director from the side. 

The Ink Demon’s purred in content, words momentarily leaving it as its eyes half-closed.   
  
Henry decided that he would use this opportunity to leave.

The Ink Demon’s purring got even louder as it sprawled further out on the ground, a leg stretching out lazily.

Henry slowly got to his feet and began to inch away.

Luckily, the Ink Demon didn’t seem concerned with Henry’s obvious departure. In fact, the skeletal creature growled again when Sammy made as if to get up and give chase.

The music director went back to petting the Ink Demon’s horns, but peered at Henry from beneath the mask with a scowl, only to be distracted when the Ink Demon reached up and brought Sammy’s hand back to its horns.

Henry held back a startled a laugh. 

Was the Ink Demon jealous now that someone else looked like it?

Henry wrenched the door open and shut it behind him, fully aware that it could be easily opened again. Hopefully not before he and the others reached Bendyland-

A blur launched itself onto Henry with a sob and held on tightly.

Henry automatically reached up to hug the crying toon Bendy in return. Henry’s grasp tightened as his shoulders dropped in relief.

Bendy was all right, even if the toon was acting as if he had not seen Henry in years, instead of just over an hour or so.

Henry supposed that Bendy hadn’t even noticed the changes that had occurred in him because Grant must have told Bendy that Henry would be there soon.

“You have a rapt audience, Henry.” Grant muttered, standing alongside the human turned mostly toon.

Henry lifted his head to look over Bendy’s head, the little devil still keeping his head buried against Henry’s chest.

The lost ones stared at Henry with a mixture of amazement and awe, along with a good dose of confusion that gave way to excited chattering amongst the normally silent inky beings. 

”He’s here.”

”He’s come to set us free.”

“Just like Sammy said he would.”

“Is this real? Will we be able to go home now?”

”Please...please set us free.”

“Henry...” Grant shifted uneasily next to Henry, his pie-cut eyes roving over the lost ones gathering around them. “What should we do? I doubt that you can help any of us out of this place, other than...” Grant indicated the Tommy gun strapped to his back. “Unless you can perform miracles now that you look more like Bendy?”

”No...” Henry murmured, warily flicking his own smaller pie-cut eyes over the crowd around them. “Bendy?” Henry murmured to the toon, only to find the toon staring up at him with a mixture of shock and worry.

Oops.

Henry should have eased Bendy into his new appearance.

Bendy burst into tears nice more and hugged Henry even tighter.

”I’m sorry.” Henry meant it. “I had to let Grant get away from Alice Angel.” Henry grimaced as the lost one all reacted unfavorably to the name, before the glowing lights of their eyes looked closer at Henry.

And saw the flaws that still marked him as human.

Shit.

”Try not to hit them.” Henry said, holding Bendy tight. 

Grant got the Tommy gun in hand and let out a few wanting shots, scattering the lost ones as they all acted betrayed over the sight of Henry masquerading as their lord and savior. Some even slipped out of the lounge, as if to go alert Sammy. 

Cries of ‘Ink Demon’ sent some of the other lost ones into the inky shadows.

Henry and Grant headed for the vent, the latter continuing to let off shots to ward off the bolder lost ones.  


“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Henry urged Bendy ahead on him as he hoisted himself into the vent after the toon, seizing the light as he went.   


“Give me the vent cover.” Grant said, pressing himself to the side of the vent once he was inside it. The toon wolf shoved the offered vent cover into a face of one of the lost ones, and kicked it into place, shifting backward to avoid an inky hand that reached through. “Not aggressive?”

”Not usually.” Henry said, as he turned the light to face forward. “But I won’t test them further. Better to get away and let them calm down.” Henry held still as Bendy hugged him around his neck. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.”

Bendy let go and, with a mischievous grin, slipped past Henry to sit on his back with a giggle, hands reaching up to hold onto Henry’s shoulders.

Apparently, Henry was giving the toon a lift through the vents.   


Light in hand, Henry began the slow progress through the vent system, Grant following close behind.

Henry could only hope that there weren’t angry lost ones on the other side of the vent, or worse, the Ink Demon deciding that it wanted to follow along after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Ink Demon’s mind, there can be only one demon getting their horns pet, and it wants to make that clear. Jealous Ink Demon is jealous that Sammy’s attentions might be split with three images of Bendy wandering the studio now. The Ink Demon just likes that Sammy is one of the few beings that hasn’t run away in fear from it yet.
> 
> Also, longer chapter this time because I’m not sure if I’ll be updating next weekend or not.


End file.
